


Monkees Rising: The Beginning

by Nezclaw, Rochelle_Templer



Series: Monkees Rising [1]
Category: Flight Rising, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, dragons!, longfic, monkees/flight rising crossover, now in chapters for easy reading!, occasional strong language, pixel dragon hell, slight dolenzmith leanings, where do i put the image refs?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 60,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezclaw/pseuds/Nezclaw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: The Monkees end up turned into dragons on the magical world of Sornieth. Unable to return home the way they came, they are welcomed by a friendly Clan, who allow these four strangers to stay while they try to figure out how to get back. The Monkees must come to grips not only with their new bodies, but also their burgeoning magical powers. Takes place somewhere between seasons one and two.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally done as an RP between me and a friend on Tumblr. I handled Mike, Peter, and the other dragons, she handled Micky and Davy.

Something woke Mike Nesmith out of a sound sleep. A quick glance around in the wan light assured the Texan that everyone was where they should be, and he laid back down to try to fall asleep again. He closed his eyes. Then opened them again and sat up. He wasn’t at all tired. Mike swung his long frame out of bed, straightened his covers and padded downstairs to grab his guitar. He’d sit out back, watch the stars, play a few tunes. That usually helped him sleep.

The moon was nearly full, its pale light providing sufficient illumination for Mike to navigate his way to the back door. Everything was where it was supposed to be; Mr Schneider, the mismatched furniture, the dented table, the door in the middle of the room…

Door?

He stopped. There, in the middle of the room, stood a door. A perfectly ordinary door, nothing particularly special about it, except of course where it was located. Mike stared at it for a few seconds.

“Now how did that get in here?” he wondered aloud. It was probably Peter’s doing, although how the bassist had gotten a door into the pad without waking anyone up was a mystery. An even bigger question was just where he’d gotten the door… He heard someone approach. It was Peter, in his orange pajamas, grinning sleepily.

“Hey Mike.” he said, getting a glass out of a cupboard and filling it at the sink.

“Heya Pete.”

“Hey guys!” Micky called out cheerfully, sliding down the spiral staircase. Mike made a face.

“Micky what are you doing up?” he asked the drummer, who was NOT known for getting up early. Micky shrugged.

“I saw you two were up and wanted to see what you were doing. Hey that’s a groovy door! Where’d you get it Pete?” Micky asked as he came to stand next to Mike. Peter frowned.

“What makes you think I had anything to do with it?” he asked, confused. Micky and Mike exchanged a look.

“Well who else would leave a door in the middle of the room?”

“Hey, could you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep.” Davy stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Where’d that door come from?” he added.

“That’s an excellent question. And since Peter didn’t do it, that leaves but one answer.” Micky declared with his usual theatrics.

“Not…!” Davy gasped.

“Yes.”

“Who breaks into someone’s house and leaves a door behind?” Mike wondered.

“Well Peter might.” Davy pointed out.

“Hey!” the bassist objected. “I would never break into someone’s house. I’d knock first.”

“Oh Peter…” Micky sighed.

“Well I think it’s a nice door.” Peter declared.

“Hey! You think it might be some sort of magic portal thing?” Davy asked.

“That’s ridiculous.” Mike scoffed. “Whoever heard of a magic portal that looks like a regular ol’ door? It would be a big huge thing covered in glowing symbols-” he waved his arms to indicate the shape, “-not something you’d pick up at the store.” As if in response, a light appeared underneath the door. Mike started.

“D-did you see that?” he squeaked.

“Hey I wonder what’s on the other side.” Peter said. He walked up to the door, opened it, and stepped through before anyone could stop him.

“He’s gone!” the three of them chorused.

“We gotta go after him.” Davy heads through first, closely followed by Mike and Micky who, true to form, shove through at the same time.

None of them emerge again.

Mike’s hat falls to the floor.

* * *

The first thing Micky thought of when he woke up was how much he hated sleeping on the floor.

Granted, he hadn’t actually opened his eyes to see where he was lying. He had just assumed it was the floor. Where else would it be?

But as he ran a hand along the ground, he soon realized that something was wrong. The floor felt unusually dirty. Mike would never let that much dirt accumulate. It also felt strangely….moist.

Micky slowly cracked one eye open…and immediately panicked when he realized that he wasn’t actually lying on the floor….or was even lying down for that matter.

Somehow, he had ended up in a tree, draped across a branch.

Micky yelped and tried to scramble up the branch. As he did so though, he looked down at his hands. His panic increased when instead of hands, he saw claws with red skinned fingers and long, thick nails.

“M-Mu-MIKE!!”

* * *

Mike’s eyes shot open when he heard Micky’s panicked cry. He tried to rise, to go to him, see what he was freaking out about… but his arms and legs didn’t seem to be working right.

“Mick?” he called out as he tried to get upright. He stumbles, and his wings reflexively flap to help him regain his balance. He stands on his toes, knees bent, ready to ru-

Wings?

WINGS???

He turns his head. Yes, he had wings. Broad, leathery wings, of a dark grey color, connected to a… oh man. He was green. A deep, rich green with darker rippling markings on his short fur-no not fur. Feathers. He was covered in _feathers_.

He feels panic rising inside him, and he squashes it down. This… This was a dream. Or Peter had slipped something in the food when he wasn’t looking. That had to be it…

So why didn’t he believe it?

“Miickyyyyyyyy….” he moaned.

* * *

Micky heard Mike call to him, but was still far too scared to move at that particular moment. He keep staring, open-mouthed at the claws in front of his eyes. The fingers moved whenever he thought of moving them so there was no denying that they were his. His _claws_.

The drummer swallowed hard and forced himself to look at more of his own body. The same scarlet skin covered him everywhere he looked. It also wasn’t long before he realized that it wasn’t just his hands that had changed. His entire body shape had changed.

Whatever he was now, it wasn’t human.

Micky squeezed his eyes shut and shook. He wasn’t sure what this was, but did have a creeping dread that this was not just a nightmare. This was real. In some way, be it through madness or some other cosmic accident, this was not just a dream.

That realization only made him wish he could be with Mike even more. But to do that, he would have to get out of this tree. He would have to move. And that was something he was terrified of doing.

_‘Just let go….’_

Micky’s eyes snapped open. He had no idea where that thought came from, but it was the first thing that made sense to him since he had woken up. Letting go meant that he would fall, but that was ok. He would either wake up or be shaken out of this delusion. He refused to consider any other option.

Micky closed his eyes, took one more deep breath….and let go…..

* * *

Mike heard a rustling noise, and looked around to see what looked like a snake fall out of a nearby tree. There was something odd about that snake…

Wings. It had wings. Six orangey wings. He gulped. That… that was where he had heard Micky’s voice coming from.

He moved toward it, and tripped over something soft and fluffy. Caught by surprise he slammed face first into the ground and felt a tooth crack. He spat out the tooth fragment and hauled himself back upright, wincing, before looking at what he had tripped over.

It looked vaguely like a large dog, covered in long fur. Thing is… while he was no expert, he was pretty sure that no breed of dog had horns like that. Or wings. Did EVERYTHING have wings here?

Something about the texture of the fur nagged at him… it was familiar somehow…but he put it out of his mind. He had other things to worry about. Such as Micky, and where the oth- oh. Oh no. That…. that couldn’t be the case… could it?

“P-Peter?”  he squeaked. That’s what the fur had reminded him of. Peter’s hair. It shifted slightly and curled up much in the way a cat does.

This… this was not good.

* * *

Almost a minute after he let go, Micky finally forced himself to open his eyes.

It wasn’t long before he realized that he still wasn’t human and was still in some strange world unlike any he had seen before.

However, what shocked him this time was the fact that he hadn’t hit the ground.

He curled his neck around to see that he was very close to the ground. Maybe a couple inches above it. Something was holding him up in the air.

Micky flailed about as he tried to right himself. Eventually, he was upright and was able to see that nothing was actually holding him. Instead, he was hovering over the ground. It was then that he detected movement near his limbs.

The drummer looked around. He had wings. Six of them. And those wings were moving frantically to keep him from hitting the ground. Micky wasn’t really sure he would call this flying. More like pawing at air.

Still, something inside him must have known to move these wings to prevent him from actually hitting the earth below. A new muscle memory? Or maybe something even more instinctual….

Micky shook his head. A part of him really wanted a mirror so he could see how much he had changed, but even his insatiable curiosity could not override his fear over what he might see. He decided instead to go back to looking for Mike.

“Bloody hell…..”

Micky’s head swiveled around. That sounded just like Davy, but he couldn’t understand how that could be.

All he could see nearby was a small, dragon-like creature with antennae on its head.

* * *

Peter stirred as Mike called his name. He raised his head, blinking sleepily. He was outdoors. When had that happened? It probably didn’t matter that much.

He uncurled and stretched, looking around him. Interesting. He was covered in fur. He wished for a breeze to cool him off. At that exact moment a breeze appeared and swirled around him, and he felt a lot better.

He sat up. He looked at himself, and at the tall green thing standing nearby.

“Oh hey Mike.” Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he knew that the creature was Mike. It didn’t really look like Mike, but something about it brought the long lanky Texan to mind. He also knew, somehow, that Davy and Micky were nearby as well, though he couldn’t see them.

“P-Peter???” Mike squeaked. Peter tilted his head, confused.

“Of course it’s me, Mike. Who else would it be?” He sneezed at the odors assaulting his nostrils. He hadn’t realized just how much everything smelled. Not that it smelled bad, it was just really strong. He sneezed again.

* * *

 

Davy hadn’t wanted to open his eyes, but he decided he might has well get it over with because it didn’t seem like everyone else would stop yelling any time soon.

As soon as he did open his eyes, he scowled. He wasn’t at the pad. He was out in the middle of the jungle. Clearly, he was right in the middle of yet another bizarre situation.

_‘Right…and how am I supposed to make my date with Sheryl now?’_

Davy’s scowl deepened as he continued to stare at the scenery around him. He couldn’t see any sign of civilization anywhere. Which didn’t make sense to him. After all, someone had to have brought them here. So where were they now?

It took him another minute to notice the long, snake-like thing with tons of wings hovering nearby. Davy jumped and was about to raise his fists in defense…when he suddenly realized that was was walking around on his hands and knees.

No, not his hands and knees. His hands and feet. Except they were all feet now. And when he bobbed his head, thin, reed-like tendrils bounced around with him.

It was then that the panic started to rise up in him. He had been focused on all the annoyances before. But now he realized that it was much more than just the usual weird situation they normally got into.

“MIKE!”

Mike forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, as he fought his panic. The guys needed him. He looked at the fluffy bassist who was currently pawing at his nose and sneezing. OK, so maybe Peter didn’t need him, but Micky and Davy did, and he couldn’t be seen to panic. He had an example to set.

Even if he _was_ scared sh*tless.

He strode awkwardly over to the place where he had heard Davy and Micky’s voices, slowly getting the hang of the way he walked. He had to lean forward when he walked, body even with the ground, tail outstretched behind him for balance, Peter trotting alongside him.

Peter bumped him and he stopped, right before tripping over the only other living things in the small clearing, the winged snake that was making use of those wings to keep itself airborne, its body looping around as it hovered near a spindly bird/dragon thing that possessed a double set of antennae and which was staring up at him with a mix of hostility and fear.

And yet… something about them both seemed strangely familiar…

“D-Davy? Micky?”

Meanwhile, Micky was still busy zipping around in the air and making a sound that roughly came out as “abbubahaaahhh”. The more he flew around, the more Micky started to think about the fact that he was flying in the first place which only made it worse at first.

Eventually though, he came to see focusing on the flying as a way to calm down. He had often dreamed of being able to fly as a kid and now he got the chance. Granted, he also had to turn into some kind of creature to do it, but now Micky was becoming increasingly convinced that this was only temporary. It was just a mistake. Some kind of witch’s spell gone bad. A weird side effect from a comet passing by. Nothing that would last forever.

He was just starting to be comforted by this idea when he saw a large green monster walking toward him. Micky felt his heart go about a hundred miles per hour until he happened to look into that monster’s….no, that dragon’s…eyes.

“M-Mike?”

That couldn’t be Mike, could it? Micky couldn’t see how that was possible. At that point though, the rational part of Micky’s mind, the part of him that loved science and working things out, took over. If he had been turned into a creature, it make sense that the same could have happened to Mike.

_‘So does that mean….?’_

The drummer looked closer at the other creatures nearby. The one with the antennae certainly reminded him of Davy with his defensive posture. The dopey smile on the shaggy creature trotting alongside Mike definitely made him think of Peter.

Micky didn’t know how he was able to figure any of this out. But he was convinced that he wasn’t wrong about it either. He turned to face the Mike-dragon in front of him and tried to put on his best smile.

“Um…Mike….so….what do we do now?”

Mike stared down at the undulating serpent thing that had spoken with Micky’s voice as the pit dropped out of his stomach. It was true then. They’d all been turned into… into dragons. Pretty strange looking dragons to be sure, but ‘dragon’ was the only thing he could think of that described them.

Why were they so small? Or was he the one who’s big? Sure, Mike was usually the tallest one in any room… but not by this much! He was more than twice the height of Davy and Peter… even more if he straightened up. And Micky… oh man.

Mike crouched down to look the serpent-no, _Micky_ in the eye. It-no not its, _his_ eyes were the same almond shape Mike knew so well… but they were the wrong color. Details. If he focused on details…

Micky was a bright crimson color with a sort of giraffe-like pattern on both his body and wings. He had a pair of horns, smooth scales, vibrant pink eyes…

it wasn’t working. He sank to the ground.

“Mick… I don’t know.” he whispered.

Micky let his smile fall away. Waking up to discover that you and your friends had been turned into monsters was bad enough. But it was even worse to watch Mike sink into despair like this.

“Well um…there’s got to be someone else around, right? Someone who knows what’s going on? Maybe we just need to find them.”

Micky then turned over to Davy. Even in this tense moment, he could appreciate the humor in the fact that Davy still managed to be short as a…well…dragon-like thing.

“Hey Davy, nice antennae.”

Davy glowered at him and Micky chuckled. It was a relief to have a moment of normalcy in this bizarre situation. He only hoped that Mike would find it comforting as well.

Then he took another glance at his own body. He was beginning to like the deep red color of his skin. And he was already intrigued by mastering flight. He was disturbed for a moment when he realized that he could swivel his head in ways that would not have been possible as a human, but he also figured that he had much bigger things to worry about.

Micky closed his eyes and tried harder to focus on the wings all over him. He attempted to coordinate them to move in a smooth rhythm together, but that was turning out to be a huge challenge. Frustrated, he opened his eyes back up and continued with his frantic flailing about.

He moved closer to Mike, nudging him gently with his head. “Babe?”

Mike reached out to touch Micky’s head gently, running his fingers along the smooth scales between his friend’s horns and along his jaw.

“Maybe… but where do we look? We’re in the middle of a jungle, Micky. What if we get lost? Or separated?”

He is interrupted by the arrival of a massive beast, brown and black, with what looked like bloody marks along its body. It was much bigger even than Mike, and looked a lot more like what he thought a dragon ought to look like with it’s heavy armored scales.

“Or maybe someone would find us.” he finished weakly.


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8358222)

Blutigenacht stared down at the four intruders. The great Guardian had heard that there were intruders on the Clan’s borders and had gone to investigate a possible threat. However, looking at the four dragons now cowering in front of him, he found it hard to believe that they could threaten anything, although the Skydancer looked like he would at least try.

They were a sorry lot, skinny, clearly terrified… but they were still intruding on the Clan’s territory.

**“What are you doing here?”** he rumbled. 

* * *

Micky had heard giant footsteps heading their way and had immediately flew over to hide behind Mike. Once he saw what was coming, he knew he had made the right decision.

Up to this point, Micky had thought that Mike was huge. Now, the drummer was terrified to realize that there were beings around here that were much much bigger. When this dragon spoke, its voice boomed out all around them.

“Umbahuhmababa….” was all that came out of Micky’s mouth. For a moment, he thought about fleeing, but he also sensed that that would be futile. Besides, fleeing would mean leaving Mike, Davy and Peter. And right now, the only place he felt even remotely safe was around them.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Davy stammered out, defiant to the end. “We’re not doing anything here. We didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”

Micky gaped at Davy, who right now was nothing but a puny creature next to what was standing in front of them. The drummer certainly hoped that this dragon was a patient one because if it wasn’t….there was a good chance they’d end up getting squashed.

The drummer moved closer to Mike, trying to disappear under one of his wings. In the past, Mike usually found a way to diffuse tense situations.

Micky prayed that this would be another one of them.

Mike stared up into the dragon's terrifying visage, his mind working furiously.

“We uh.. we got lost! That’s all. We got lost on our way somewhere so uh If you could just uh tell us where we are we’ll be on our way and won’t bother you any more mister uh…..?”

“I am Blutigenacht. I watch the borders of the Clan and you, my little green friend, are not telling me the whole truth.” the dragon rumbled.

Mike blanched.

Blutigenacht didn’t miss the Wildclaws reaction. Still… they were clearly scared. more scared than they really should have been. They acted like they’d never seen a Guardian before, but that couldn’t be the case, could it? Guardians were one of the most common dragon breeds on Sornieth, and even if none were in residence at the Clan that they came from, they had to at least have heard of them.

Were they spies? Probably not.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh… when we figure that out you’ll be the first to know.” the Wildclaw replied with a nervous chuckle.

Blutigenacht rubbed his face. Sweet Tidelord he was not paid enough for this.

“You… you’re not gonna eat us are you?” the Tundra hiding behind the Wildclaw’s ankles asked.

“What? No! I simply wish to know who you are and how you got here. It’s not that hard of a question, is it?” Blutigenacht rumbled.

“Welll…….” the Wildclaw began…

No. He definitely wasn’t being paid enough to deal with this sh*t.

“Hey, you don’t need to act like that,” Davy scowled. “We told you that we didn’t know how we got here. All we know is that a door appeared in our house. We walked through it and somehow we ended up here. Isn’t that enough?”

Micky shook some more, but didn’t move. Normally, he often applauded Davy for his feisty demeanor, but this was not a normal time. Even though the dragon said that it wasn’t going to eat them, the drummer could not completely dismiss the possibility.

He then swallowed hard. Mike was already trying to smooth out the situation but seemed to be too petrified to apply his usual skill to it. Micky knew that there was no way that he would be able to stop being scared any time soon, but also figured that it was more important to try to get Mike to be a little less scared.

Slowly, he moved out from underneath Mike’s wing.

“Um, hi, uh….Blutigenacht….gosharoonie I hope I said that right….”

Micky gulped. He was babbling, but babbling was always the necessary first step in his usual method for getting everyone to calm down.

“Anyway, um, I’m Micky. And uh, this is Mike. And he’s Davy and that’s Peter. And like Davy and Mike said, we’re just lost. so uh….no harm done, right? So uh, if you could just, you know, point the way back to our world….”

Micky tried his best to smile again. He was pretty sure that his smile looked more like baring teeth right now, but then again, that probably didn’t mean much to this huge dragon blocking their path.

Instead he just hoped that this dragon would let them go…and that maybe it knew where exactly they should go to.

 _Gosharoonie?_ Blutigenacht mouthed to himself. _Ok…_

He looked at the nervously babbling Spiral, Micky. Odd name… but that wasn’t the oddest thing about them.

“What do you mean your own world?”

Micky blinked hard. He hadn’t expected this dragon to hone in on that detail.

“Um, you know, Earth? See, we live in California. That’s a state. Uh, part of the country we live in. Which we call America. Anyway, we’re from Earth.”

The drummer hoped that that made some sense. However, before he could continue with more rambling responses, the full implication behind Blutigenacht’s words and his own answer finally sunk in.

There was a good chance that they were not on the planet Earth anymore. In fact, for all they knew, this was some kind of alternate dimension or something.

And if that were the case, how would they be able to get back?

Blutigenacht blinked. They said they were from Earth… but he had an odd feeling they weren’t talking about the Flight, although the Wildclaw had the right eyes for it. A flight was hardly a world.

He looked at them again, and as he did, his Sight decided to make an appearance. A thread of music whispered past his ears, and he saw something transposed over the four, like an echo, an image of four skinny creatures, all around the same size, cowering in similar positions. He blinked and the vision faded.

“I See. You had best come with me. I promise that no harm will come to you.” He saw the hesitance in their eyes. He sighed.

“You can either come with me and get this sorted out, or you can stay here and panic.” He paused. “There’s food.” he added. That did it. The Tundra, Peter, perked up at that.

Mike didn’t really want to go with Blutigenacht, but the dragon was right. There weren’t really that many options available… and, well, they had been… whatever this was… before they had had breakfast.

He nodded, his wing still cupped around Micky, and followed Blutigenacht out of the clearing.

“Come on guys. We might as well.”

Micky’s heart pounded rapidly. He could understand why Mike chose to go with this dragon willingly. Especially since it could have just as easily forced them to go.

Still, the far less rational part of Micky’s mind was starting to regain a foothold. Going off with this dragon would allow this whole nightmarish situation to continue and develop. And who knew what would be waiting for them as they left the immediate area they were in.

Micky trembled and moved back under Mike’s wing. He wanted to tell Mike to say “no” and just stay here until they figured out something else to do. But that could also make things worse too.

No, no for now it was better to follow Blutigenacht and hope that it was a man….uh, dragon, that was true to its word. He snuggled up as close as he could get to Mike and still fly so he could follow along silently.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike followed Blutigenacht as the dragon led them through a path in the forest, a passage that he would have sworn was impenetrable to one of his size. The path was well maintained though, the surrounding brush cleared away, and the ground was smooth and even. Small lights sparkled in the upper branches of the surrounding trees, reminding Mike of Christmas lights.

After a few minutes walk, the passage opened up. Mike stopped dead as he saw where the dragon had taken them, not even budging when Peter and Davy plowed into him.

He stared.

Dragons. So many dragons, in all shapes, sizes, colors, and patterns, flying and walking around a village that looked to be grown out of the surrounding trees.

He gulped, hard.

Micky’s eyes bulged as he nudged his way out a bit from under Mike’s wing.

By now, he knew he should have expected to see more dragons. After all, the four of them had become dragons….at least, that was what Micky was pretty sure they all were….and there was a ginormous dragon escorting them through the forest. So it was logical to assume that there would be more of them around.

Still, the drummer was certain that he couldn’t have been prepared for the sight in front of him. Dozens of dragons were milling around or hovering in the air. There were a few that looked like Peter and Davy although he didn’t see any that looked like Mike. There were also some long, serpent-like ones zipping about.

 _‘Is…is that what I look like now?’_ he thought to himself. _‘Like a flying snake with horns?’_

Micky shook his head as if he was trying to shake the thought from his brain. However, even though he was somewhat disturbed to get a better idea of what he had been turned into, Micky had to admit that the sight in front of him was not really that terrible. Some of the dragons were almost beautiful with their colors and patterns all over their skins.

“What…what is this?” Davy stuttered. “Is everyone here a dragon?”

Micky took another look around him before shifting his focus back to Davy. Even though Davy was still doing his best to look confident; Micky could tell that he was still scared. Once again, the drummer fell back on his normal coping technique.

“Oh Davy,” he quipped. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Davy glared at him again, and for a moment, Micky saw something flicker in Davy’s eyes. Something unfamiliar. Something that took him a moment to recognize.

_‘Is that…fire?’_

Peter looked around at the Clan, squinting. He hadn’t noticed it before, but his eyesight was actually a lot fuzzier than he was used to. He could see the guys pretty clearly, but beyond that it got fuzzy. The dragons around the clan looked like brightly colored birds to him.

He sneezed again.

Thing is, while they looked like brightly colored birds, he could also tell somehow that they weren’t. He knew their shape, the shape of the trees around them… like three-dimensional cutouts. There were a few with his shape, a few with Micky’s shape, a few with Davy’s shape.

Was he scared? Maybe a little, but it was overshadowed by his sense of curiosity and adventure. Sure, it was kinda weird to be on all fours, with wings, a tail, and a coat of fur, but it wasn’t all bad. He had his friends with him, and Blutigenacht had said there was food.

He nudged Mike in the leg reassuringly. Mike’s scent flooded his nostrils and he sneezed again. It wasn’t bad, but it was a bit weird to smell him this strongly. Did his eyesight get exchanged for his sense of smell? That was kinda cool.

Mike smelled like, well, Mike. It was like looking at a face, Peter decided. There were different parts to it, yes, but you don’t look at the parts of a face individually. You look at the person, and you recognize the person. Although there was something he could pick out that stood out to him from the general Mike-ness of his scent.

Dirt. Like… parched earth baking in the sun. It was kind of like the way Blutigenacht smelled like the sea. There was also fear, and that rather worried him. Mike, scared? Mike was the one who always kept it together when the rest of them were scared. He brushed against Mike again, before going up to Blutigenacht and gently patting him on the claws to get his attention.

“Didn’t you say there was food?”

Mike snapped out of his daze as Peter went up to bother the great big dragon, frantically waving to get his attention before he got them all killed. He was about to run over there and drag Peter back somehow when a booming sound made him jump.

Blutigenacht was laughing???

“Of course my little fuzzy friend. Come, I’ll introduce you to the Clan’s cook. And your friends are welcome to come too.”

Peter beamed and bounced excitedly. Mike winced.

“Pete… please promise me you won’t try to ‘help out’.” he said, his fear momentarily overruled by dread about what would happen if anyone here tasted Peter’s cooking. He was also a bit thrown by Blutigenacht’s abrupt switch from ‘terrifying beast that looked like he was going to eat them’ to ‘amiable host that nevertheless still looked like he was going to eat them’.

Peter pouted. It was such a familiar expression that Mike felt himself relax a bit more.

“Why not? He’s welcome to lend a hand if he wishes.” Blutigenacht said.

Davy goggled at Peter. He wasn’t that surprised that the bassist was thinking with his stomach. Peter tended to get focused on some irrelevant detail when they were in a dire situation. They could have guns pointed at them and Peter would be concerned about a vase of flowers being tipped over.

No, what amazed Davy was that Peter seemed to be ok with being a…dragon.

Davy bobbed his head again, noticing how the antennae moved as he did so. He did think that they added a certain flair to his appearance which he could appreciate. Although, he had a hard time ignoring the fact that he still seemed to be shorter than most of the dragons around here.

 _‘Wait a minute….what am I doing?’_ he thought. _‘Who cares if the antennae look good? I don’t want to be a dragon. I don’t want to be here.’_

Davy looked over at Mike. The Texan still seemed flustered which wasn’t good. If Mike didn’t calm down, how were they going to come up with a plan to get home? Then he looked over at Micky.

‘Right, maybe Micky can figure out how to get Mike’s head on straight. He always has before.’

“Hey, Micky…..”

Micky jumped a little at Davy’s voice, his thoughts having been completely taken up by watching the dragons around him and wondering if there were any others that looked like Mike.

“Wha…what is it?”

“When’s Mike going to ask how we’re getting home?” Davy asked him. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

Micky nodded his head and tried to smile. He was thinking about talking to Mike anyway, but oddly enough how to get back home was lower on his list of priorities. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Mike so scared and that filled him with even more dread.

Micky moved closer to Mike again and nudged him.

“Babe….?”

Mike looked down at the- at Micky, who was gazing up at him in concern. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Yeah Mick?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking too badly.

Micky almost frowned. This conversation was not going off to a great start given how Mike’s voice sounded: panicky while still trying to hide it. But the drummer knew he needed to press on anyway.

“Um, maybe we should get some food. You know, just eat and hang out a bit. Maybe these guys…uh, people…dragons will see that we’re not a threat or anything. And maybe they’ll start talking to us and we can figure out a way to get back.”

Micky flapped a little harder so he could get close to eye level with Mike. Looking around at other dragons that looked like him, Micky could tell that he was far from graceful at flying. Still, he was pleased that he was sort of getting the hang of it so far.

“Think of it this way,” he said with a small laugh. “At least we won’t have to put up with Babbitt for a little while.”

Mike forced himself to relax, but it was difficult. Sure, he’d dealt with all sorts of weird things before, but this was a whole different level of ‘weird’. He thought he had been doing better, but seeing all the dragons flying around this place… it really drove home the fact that they weren’t on Earth anymore.

Food… Food would probably help. And he wasn’t alone, he had his friends with him. And they were just as scared as he was. And if _Micky_ could put on a brave face… Plus from what he could tell the dragons here weren’t beasts. They were sentient. They were people.

“Yeah. That… that seems like a good idea. They have to know how to get us home.” And he was hungry, he realized. He nodded, and followed Blutigenacht as the giant led them to what must have been the kitchen.

“Felara will take care of you.” the giant rumbled amiably. “She does most of the cooking for the smaller breeds.”

“Nacht!” a voice cried out. “Are you telling tales about me?” Mike jumped as what he had taken for a lump of rock moved and approached them. The dragon, Felara he assumed, sparkled in the light like a chunk of quartz, pure white except for the swirls of green that covered her hide.

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=16568076)

“And I don’t believe I’ve seen you four before. Nacht, where’d you find these drakes?” she asked, looking up at Mike. She was a rather short dragon, built low to the ground.

“They were wandering about near the edges of the Clan.”

“Oh dear. And they’re so thin too…”

Mike shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t really appreciate being talked about as if he wasn’t there, and he definitely didn’t want to be fussed over by a complete stranger.

His stomach growled audibly. Felara’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Oh my. Come, take a seat and I’ll see what I have for you.”

“Great, um, thanks,” Micky said with a smile. He wasn’t especially thrilled with being referred to as “skinny” yet again, but he was used to it.

Micky watched Felara move around. Even though she looked like a boulder that had come to life, there was also something maternal about her. She made Micky think of one of his Italian aunts who come to visit when he was a kid. She would sing songs as she make large buffet-style dinners for the family. Even though she was supposed to be a guest, she had always insisted that she was happiest in the kitchen.

“Anyway, yeah, we’re not from around here,” he continued. “I guess that’s kind of obvious.” The drummer let out another nervous laugh and continued.

“So you’re Felara. My name is Micky. Micky Dolenz. And that’s Mike, Davy and Peter. Pleased to meet ya. So….uh, what’s for lunch er, dinner…ah…whatever it is here right now?”


	4. Chapter 4

Felara watched the four drakes as she prepared the food. They were an odd group. The Spiral didn’t seem to know how to fly properly, the Wildclaw seemed to be freaking out, the Skydancer looked nervous… the only one who didn’t seem at all upset was the Tundra who was looking around curiously at everything. She was about to ask Blutigenacht something, but the Guardian had disappeared on her.

“No, I didn’t think you were.” she said thoughtfully. She dished up the meals and set the dishes in front of them. Meat for Mike, insects and meat for Micky, insects and plants for Davy, and plants for Peter. Peter dove right into his plate eagerly.

The others were a bit more hesitant.

Mike carved off a chunk of meat and chewed it awkwardly. His teeth had changed, he realized. They were like knives, sharp, bladed, and pointed. They sliced through the meat easily, reducing it to shreds in moments. He swallowed. It was _really_ good. It was also, he noticed as he went to carve off another chunk, barely cooked at all. It had a light sear around the edges, but the rest was still rather raw.

“So how do you like it?” Felara asked.

Micky kept staring at it, unsure of what to do. He knew it was rude to not even try it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Felara had not actually told him what was in it.

Shrugging, he went ahead and took a large bite. He wasn’t sure what exactly it tasted like, but the more he chewed, the better it seemed. Especially the crunchier bits.

Then he looked over at Mike. He could see the blood dribbling out from the meat and could easily guess why Mike wasn’t digging in quite so fast.

“This is great,” he said, taking another big bite. “Nice and crispy. But uh, Mike…he usually has his steaks more, medium rare…. I mean, I’m sure it tastes good and all….but….um….”

Micky focused on taking another huge bite, unsure of how to proceed from there. He knew that Mike was too polite to say anything, and the drummer hoped that Felara wouldn’t be offended by his implied suggestion.

Meanwhile, Davy moved his head closer to the dish in front of him and stared silently for a full minute before looking up.

“Wait a minute, there’s wings and legs in the….are those bugs?!”

“Well of course. We had quite the grasshopper invasion this year, and we’ve still got lots left in stores. If you don’t like it it’s quite alright. It’s Irrydessa’s favorite so it won’t go to waste.” Felara said pleasantly.

Mike wasn’t really paying attention to the drama unfolding around him. He was too busy trying to sort out the conflicting impulses he felt. On the one hand the meat was way underdone. On the other hand… it looked really good. He glanced over at the others. Satisfied that they weren’t looking at him, he picked up the slab of meat in his claws and proceeded to tear off a piece with his teeth.

Something seemed to click and he tore into it savagely, ripping off chunks of still dripping meat, warm and bloody, and gulping them down without really chewing. It had been a fairly large chunk of meat, and he devoured it in moments.

Suddenly the meat was gone and his belly was full. He blinked, slightly horrified by his lack of discretion. Did… did he really just eat that entire thing?

He shook.

What was happening to him?

Micky was in mid-chew when what Felara said truly sunk in.

_‘Wait a minute…crunchy? Does that mean…..?’_

The drummer took a closer look at his own dish. Upon additional inspection, he realized that he also could see what looked like bits of legs and wings.

“Urk….” Micky said as he forced himself to swallow what was in his mouth. He waited to take a couple of deep breaths before daring to speak again. “Um, Felara, there are bugs in my dish too, aren’t there?”

“What?! She put bugs in all these dishes?” Davy said. “Bloody hell. I’m not eating this.”

Micky was all set to agree with Davy when he suddenly realized that he hadn’t minded eating the bugs as much as he thought he would. It helped that he was still really hungry for some reason.

 _‘Maybe if I don’t think about what’s in there,’_ he told himself.

Then he looked over at Mike. At first, he was surprised that Mike had finished his meat and was relieved that it turned out to be edible after all. But then he took a closer look at Mike’s face. Specifically, at his mouth which was sloppy with bits of flesh and dripping with thinned blood.

“Um, Mike…are you ok?”

“Of course there’s bugs in your food.” Felara said, somewhat perplexed. “I don’t know what you’re upset about, it’s what you’re supposed to eat. I know what Spirals and Skydancers like, Shadowbinder knows I’ve been cooking long enough.”

Mike was still shaking.

“I-I uh…I….” he gulped. He’d _almost_ managed to accept being turned into a dragon… but eating that meat like that had brought back all the fear he’d been feeling with added interest. He put his hands to his face… and suffered another shock as instead of a normal human face he felt a long snout.

Felara noticed his distress and was puzzled, but when Mike started wiping at the mess on his face she handed him a rag with which to clean his face and claws with.

“Th-thanks.” he croaked before scrubbing furiously at his face with the cloth. That helped a bit. He felt slightly more civilized, but not by much. The memory of savaging that meat remained fresh in his mind. His wings, which had been in a partially unfolded position, he now drew tight against his body.

If the guys saw him eat like that…

He wanted to reassure Micky that he was fine, but he knew that Micky wouldn’t believe him. He knew him too well for that.

Mike hated this. Hated not knowing what had happened to them. Hated being scared like this when the guys needed him to be strong. Hated the way he had _enjoyed_ tearing into that meat.

“Mick… I wanna go home.” he whimpered.

Peter continued to happily chomp on his vegetables, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Well maybe you lot like to eat bugs, but not me,” Davy snorted. He then pointed at Peter. “I’ll have what he’s having, if you don’t mind.”

“If you insist.” Felara shrugged, and pulled up another plate of vegetables.

Micky might have given Davy a snarky remark for being rude if he had actually heard him. Right now though, he was too busy being concerned about Mike. The sound Mike’s voice made when the Texan said he wanted to go home made Micky’s heart ache.

“Mike…I know. We all do, babe,” he said softly. “But…we can’t right this minute, ok? It’ll be ok.”

Micky felt wetness start to gather up in his eyes, but fought hard against it. It felt strange to comfort Mike this way, even though he knew from experience that Mike was not always as tough and impervious as the Texan liked to act. Still, something about how Mike was responding to this current situation was truly unsettling.

Unsure of what else to do, Micky slid his plate a little closer to Mike.

“Would you like to try some of mine? It’s actually pretty good.”

Mike looked over at Micky and tried to smile.

“Thanks Mick.” He tasted a bit of Micky’s food while Felara watched them with a slight frown. He swallowed, then shrugged.

“It’s ok I guess.” he said, _but the meat tasted better…_

“Just who, or what, are you guys?“ Felara asked. “Pardon my directness, but you appear to be fully grown, and know each other very well, but at the same time you don’t know simple things like your own diets.”

“Thank you,” Davy said, a little shamefaced. He knew he had been rude to a lady…of sorts…and needed to make up for it. As he ate, he made a mental note to find a way to do so.

Meanwhile, Micky nodded as Mike tried his dish. The drummer felt marginally better as it seemed to provide Mike with a distraction for the moment. Micky took another generous bite before replying to her question.

“Well um,…..it’s kinda hard to explain. See we’re not from here. We’re from Earth. And there aren’t any dragons there…..well, sort of. Not like you guys, talking and stuff. And um, we’re people. Uh humans. Do you…do you have any humans around here?”

“Humans?” Felara echoed. “No. I don’t believe there are any ‘humans’ here. Certainly not that I’ve heard of.” There was something about the way he said “Earth” that intrigued her. The inflection wasn’t what you would use if you were talking about Earth flight, rather it sounded more like the inflection used for Sornieth, as in the planet they were on. And if they came from a place with no dragons, well that pretty much ruled out them just being confused about Earth flight…

“If you’re really from a place with no dragons… then how did you get here? And why are you dragons now?”

Mike was feeling a bit better now, and took it upon himself to respond.

“Well uh, well that’s the thing.” he said, as he waved his hands in short, fidgety motions. “We.. we don’t know why we’re uh…” more fidgeting, “well, dragons now.” He played with one of the two lowermost horns on his head, right at the corner of his jaw. It was a completely automatic motion, and he didn’t really notice he was doing it. It took him several seconds to realize that there was a horn there, distracted as he was.

Then it sank in, and he felt around the rest of his head. Six horns, and a crest of what felt like feathers. Just when he thought he was done being surprised…

“Would you like a mirror dear?” Felara asked kindly. Mike nodded mutely. The crystalline dragon cook rummaged around for a few moments, before withdrawing a mirror in a battered frame. The glass was clear though, free from scratches and warping, and Mike gazed at his new reflection.

He barely recognized himself.

His face, like the rest of his body, was a deep rich green color with ripples of darker green. His eyes were the same color, still brown. He looked… he looked like a dinosaur, almost. But… he was also feathered? He touched his face, feeling the shape of it, the way it extended outwards, his cheekbones, the small openings he had instead of actual ears, his horns…

Curious, Micky moved over close to Mike so he could get a look at himself in the mirror.

He had already known that he was a deep red color, but seeing his face having the same rich hue was still startling. And that was before he took in the almond shaped magenta eyes, the horns on his head, the small sharp teeth in his mouth…

Micky swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure how any of the guys had recognized him like this. He kept moving his head and touching his face, studying how the figure in the mirror performed the same movements. And yet each time, a part of Micky half expected the dragon in the mirror to do something different.

_‘That’s really me? That’s what I look like….? I don’t look anything like myself anymore.’_

Micky looked back over at the others. Mike still had his normal brown eyes and the green made a sort of sense with the hat he always wore. Davy still had his usual scowl and star struck eyes. Peter, with that dopey grin and sandy fur could not be mistaken for anyone else. But himself? Micky could not see any of himself in that reflection.

“Uh... we came through a door,” he said, deciding his time was better spent answering Felara’s questions. “Maybe one of the dragons here created it?”


	5. Chapter 5

Felara watched their reactions to seeing themselves in the mirror. From what she could tell they were genuinely shocked. Poor things… to wake up and find yourself in a completely different body that was nothing like the one they were born in… she couldn’t imagine how that felt.

“A door? I’ve never heard of that happening… although holes in reality are not as uncommon as you might think… _Certain_ flights can’t seem to help but rip open portals to other dimensions, although they’re usually pretty unstable from what I’ve heard. A portal stable enough to allow four to pass safely… _and_ alter their forms…” She shook her head. “That’s very powerful magic.”

Peter had finally finished his meal. He rose, shook himself, and trotted over to where Mike and Micky were staring at their reflections. He poked Mike gently with one large paw.

“Can I see?” he asked. Mike blinked, and handed the mirror to Peter, who peered at his reflection curiously. So that’s what he looked like now. He had green eyes! Cool!

Satisfied, he handed the mirror back to Mike. He didn’t see the need to get upset over his appearance. He knew who he was. What he looked like on the outside was just cosmetics. Dragon or human, he was still Peter. He did wish he could make the others feel better though. Mike still smelled scared, although not as much as before. Still, Peter would feel a lot better when Mike didn’t smell scared anymore. He rubbed against Mike’s side, much in the way a cat does when it wants attention, trying to do his best to reassure him.

“It’s ok Mike. We’re still here.”

Mike looked down at the fluffy beast that was Peter. Peter beamed up at him and headbutted him again, his fluffy tail thwapping the ground. Mike smiled, very slightly. It took a lot to get Peter down. Of course a little thing like being turned into a dragon wouldn’t mess him up. He had to admit, the fluffy form rather suited him. He reached down and patted him. It was kinda weird, patting him like this, but Pete seemed to like it and leaned into Mike’s hand, tail thwapping happily.

Micky sighed and shook his head. It sounded like magical events were not unusual at all in this world. On one hand, that meant that it was possible that whatever had brought them there could be reversed somehow.

On the other, it also meant that any attempt to do so could end up having an even more fantastic outcome. As well as the likelihood that, the longer they stayed there, the more chances they had of their running across other side effects of magic.

The drummer watched as Peter and then Davy took a turn at looking at themselves in a mirror. Peter seemed to be taking this really well, but then that didn’t surprise him all that much. Peter always seemed more focused on savoring each experience as it happened rather than worrying about what had come before or what could happen in the future. And Davy….well, Davy also had a unique way of looking at the world that seemed even harder to pin down at times.

As for himself…. Micky felt like he had a ball of conflicting emotions inside him. A part of him was curious about what was happening and wanted to more know. Another part, however, was still scared that he’d never get back home and that there were plenty of undiscovered dangers waiting for them.

It didn’t help that it was clear that Mike wasn’t taking what was happening well at all. Micky longed to talk to Mike about all the worries he had, but figured that it wasn’t a good idea right now.

“Um, Felara, do you know anyone we could talk to who could, you know, tell us more about the kind of magic that might have brought us here?”

“Hmm…” Felara said thoughtfully. “I would say talk to Zelioth. He’s probably the best bet. He’s usually around to answer magical questions. I’ll take you to him if you like, since you don’t know your way around. That sound good?”

Mike nods.

“Yeah. That’ll be great. Thank you.” The fact that magic apparently existed here didn’t surprise Mike as much as it could have. He was already a dragon, and they probably didn’t have any magical powers anyway, so that was at least one thing he felt that he didn’t need to worry too much about. Better to just focus on how to get home.

“It’s no trouble.” Felara replied. “I’ll take you now if everyone’s finished?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Micky grinned. He made sure to finish the rest of his meal in two big gulps. He had to work at swallowing the second one, but managed to get it down before letting out a huge ‘burp’. He smiled again, much more sheepishly this time.

“And thanks for the meal. It was great.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Davy chimed in. “Your veggie dish was very tasty. You are an excellent chef.”

Once he was finished, Micky moved back to hover close to Mike. Even though he was anxious to get some more answers about how they got here and how they might get back; Micky was also intrigued by talking to someone who knew a lot about magic. He wasn’t really sure why. He didn’t really believe in it back home. But something about the prospect seemed a lot more interesting to him now as a dragon.

The drummer glanced over at the others. Micky wondered if any of them could have magical powers now. It was an unlikely idea, but then again, so was their being turned into dragons. He secretly wanted to ask this Zelioth about it, but kept that to himself.

“All right then.” Felara said. “Come along now.” She led the four of them across the clan to a walkway that led up into the trees. It was a broad and sturdy walkway, yet Mike was uncomfortable. And he wasn’t really sure why. They weren’t that high up, and he had wings, and the walkway was firm beneath his feet…

Still, he was uneasy.

They reached a den, crafted of living tree branches woven together to keep out the elements. Felara tapped on the entrance, and a dragon that looked much like Peter poked its head out and sniffed the air curiously.

“I smell strangers. And food!” He looked around and saw the group. “Ah! Felara! What brings you here? And who are these drakes? They smell quite strange.” He was blue, with interesting markings like feathers on his fur. He also had the same color eyes as Micky. Mike wondered if that meant anything, but dismissed that thought.

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=17981764)

“These four have some questions about magic. It seems they came here from a different world through some sort of portal.”

“Really? How interesting! That must be why they smell funny. Come in, come in. You may need to watch your head.” he added looking up at Mike, who towered over the others. “But the ceiling is higher once we get inside.”

It was rather spacious. The walls were smooth wood, with organic looking shelves and alcoves full of books, scrolls, and assorted odd objects. There were also charts covered with odd symbols hung up on the walls. The entire room was covered in a fine layer of blue fur.

“Ahh… sorry about the fur everywhere.. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I’ll leave them in your capable paws then, Zelioth.” Felara said as she sat down the basket she had brought. “And there’s a little something in there for you if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Ah wonderful wonderful. You do know how to take care of a body.” Felara nodded and left. Zelioth turned his attention back to the Monkees. “Now. Tell me about yourself. She said you’re from another world? Is that true?”

* * *

Micky had to work hard to both go upward and keep up with the rest of them. Trying to flap six wings in some kind of unison was starting to get tiring, but Micky was also too wound up to pay too much attention to that.

When they arrived at their destination, Micky immediately noticed that the dragon they were visiting looked a lot like Peter apart from the different coloring and markings. Even more curious to Micky was the fact that the dragon had the same eye color as the drummer did.

Something about the way the light glinted in this other dragon’s eyes stuck with Micky. It seemed like it meant something, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“Thanks again, Felara,” he called after the other dragon as she left. It was a relief to know that most of the dragons they met so far were kind enough. He hoped that that trend would continue.

After giving Felara one more wave, Micky turned his attention to Zelioth’s question.

“Um, hi. We uh, yeah, we’re not from here. I’m Micky, and that’s Mike, Peter and Davy. We’re from Earth and we’re not actually dragons. We’re people, uh humans.”

“Yeah, there was this door thing in our living room,” Davy added. “We walked through it and then….” Davy shrugged rather than finish that sentence. “Do you have ideas about where we are or how we got here….or why we ended up looking like you lot?”

“Hmm… an interdimensional portal coupled with adaptive morphology capability… that’s most unusual. You say you’re from Earth. Curious that, that the place you’re from shares the name of one of the Flights. And that only one of you has the eyes for it…” He bustled around, pulling out scrolls and texts and sniffing at them before putting them back. Eventually he seemed to find the one he was looking for and set it down on a table.

“Now where are my…” he patted his face and fur. “Oh that’s right.” He retrieved a set of glasses from his workbench. “To answer your first question… you are on Sornieth. As for how you got here.. well that’s a bit harder to answer. How much do you know about transdimensional anomalies?”

“Say what?”

“That’s what I thought. Let’s see… how to explain this… Well the first thing you need to understand is that portals to other dimensions are actually fairly common. It is, however, worth noting that while they are common, they are also usually fairly useless. Either they are too small to be of use and quickly close up again, or the connection is unstable and anything sent through is bent and twisted from the massive energies involved.” He drummed his fingers against the table. “It would take a tremendous amount of magical power and focus to open up a portal stable enough to permit living creatures to pass through unharmed. And you say you aren’t in fact dragons? You had a different form before arriving here?”

“Yea.”

“That… that complicates things considerably I’m afraid.”

“What- what do you mean?” Mike asked, almost afraid to ask.

“I mean that while I could theoretically open a portal back to your own world, provided I had help, I’m not sure if I could also return you to your normal forms. And even if I did manage to open a portal stable enough to permit passage of living tissue… there’s no way to be sure I’ve got the right dimension without at least some sort of focus. Something from that dimension that resonates with the same energy.”

Micky listened with interest to everything Zelioth had to say…. all the way up to when the dragon announced that it would be next to impossible to send them back. That part elicited a groan from him, but even then, his brain continued to process everything he had learned.

_‘So…we’re in another dimension…one that changed us around…and now we’re in some place called Sornieth….’_

The drummer frowned. He found it hard to believe that these “portals” were as common as Zelioth was implying them to be. Wouldn’t someone have discovered by now if they were? Even if people couldn’t travel around in them, it seemed like someone should have at least noticed their existence by now.

_‘Unless…unless they didn’t know what it was that they found….’_

Micky blinked hard. He didn’t know where that thought came from, but it made sense. Maybe these portals were hanging around and people chalked them up as being something else. It made a lot more sense than nobody noticing them at all.

Still, something about that idea, about people using those portals without realizing it felt familiar in some way. Like maybe there was something about it he could relate to.

Micky blinked again. He was sure that he could figure it out if he didn’t feel so oddly tired. Instead of dwelling on that thought though, Micky couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that had been nagging at him.

“Uh, Mr. Zelioth…you said that one of us “had the eyes” for Earth. What did you mean? And um….why do your eyes look like mine?”

“Oh that’s right. You wouldn’t know about that would you.” the Tundra replied. “Eye color here indicates elemental alignment. So you’re aligned with the same Flight I am, Arcane, and your friend, Mike was it? His eyes are the color of Earth flight.”

“Flight?” Micky repeated. “What does that mean? And what is Arcane?”

Mike wasn’t really listening. They… they couldn’t go back? No. that couldn’t be right. There had to be a way back. There had to be. He didn’t want to be a dragon. This couldn’t be happening. He fidgeted anxiously.

“No…” he whispered.

Zelioth watched Mike with some concern.

“As for getting you four back home… I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps one of my colleagues knows more about this.”

At the back of his mind, Micky was still concerned about getting back home and was grateful that Zelioth seemed determined to keep working on the problem. But something inside him, some deep-seated curiosity, was also stirring. Granted, Micky had always had a pretty wide streak of curiosity in him, but at that moment, it seemed like it had increased tenfold.

The drummer glanced at everyone elses eyes. He figured that Peter and Davy probably had different “flights” than he did and was also curious about what they were.

Then he took a closer look at Mike. He had heard the dismay in the Texan’s voice and had noticed his fidgeting. But for some reason, it hadn’t fully clicked that Mike was starting to freak out again until that moment. He moved back closer to Mike and nudged him with his head again.

“Mike? Babe? Hey… are you alright?”

Mike shook his head, drawing his wings closer around him. In addition to the fact that they probably wouldn’t be able to go home anytime soon, the sense of unease he felt being in the trees had not diminished any, even though he was inside. He needed a hug. More than that, he needed to be alone for a while. Just so he could get a breather from all the things that had just kept happening one after the other, faster than he could comprehend. Just like, five minutes of quiet, free from any more bad news about their situation. Or any news at all, really.

Could this day get any worse?


	6. Chapter 6

Micky felt his inside drop when he watched Mike shake his head. Mike was their leader. They all relied on him to keep things together whenever they were in a difficult situation. Usually, Micky often felt like panicking when things went from bad to worse, but he was able to keep it mostly under control by reminding himself that Mike was already working on a way to figure things out.

The drummer frowned. Normally, he’d suggest the two of them do something like walk on the beach together or ask Mike if he’d like to do something on his own. But right now, neither of those things were feasible. Heck, Micky wasn’t even sure if there was a beach on this world they landed in. And he was sure that Davy and Peter would agree that it was better that they stick together for now.

Micky started to ask Zelioth some more questions, but suddenly, he found it hard to formulate coherent thoughts. The exertion of flying so awkwardly along with the stress of what he had been experiencing was starting to take a toll on him. He thought about asking about where he could take a nap, but finding the words seemed incredibly difficult.

Instead, he started to awkwardly wander back out of the cave. It seemed rude for some reason to ask about sleeping in a stranger’s place. He didn’t know for sure where he was going, but he figured he should be going somewhere.

“Uh thanks Zelioth that…I’m just…I think I’ll….Mike, Mike you wanna go…do….”

Micky blinked. His words were coming out in a jumble and flying seemed even more difficult. He decided his best bet would be to start descending back down to the ground and wait there for the others to follow.

If only he could get the hang of this flying thing…..

* * *

Mike’s head shot up as he heard Micky speak. That.. that didn’t sound right.

He rose and followed Micky out, watching his friend’s flight grow more erratic as he spiraled down.

“Mick? Micky are you ok?” _Not this. Anything but this. Please let him be ok. Oh man. Was it the food? Had their food been drugged? Peter and Davy seemed ok… but they’d all had different meals… What could it be? Was he sick? Some disease local to the area?_ His mind whirled with possibilities, none of them good.

He hopped off the walkway and down to the ground to keep an eye on Micky from below. The way he was flying… weaving back and forth in ever decreasing loops… it looked like he would drop out of the sky at any moment. Once on the ground he felt a sense of relief for no reason he could discern. He also failed to notice that he had just hopped down from a point about two stories up and landed easily.

And not a moment too soon.

Micky looked all around. He could have sworn he saw a huge blur of green plummet to the ground beside him, but could not figure out what that could have possibly been. There was a lot of green around him right now. Maybe it was all starting to meld together and that’s was what was disorienting him.

Suddenly, he heard Mike call to him. He looked around and finally spotted him on the ground. Micky squinted and stared. Mike had been up higher just a moment ago, hadn’t he? It just didn’t make sense.

Micky tried to carefully drift down to where Mike was, but his wings felt like lead weights. Every movement was like trying to swim in molasses. The blobs of green and brown got even blurrier and blinking his eyes was not helping.

“Mike? Um Grorugog…..”

Micky was sure that came out as something intelligible even though he wasn’t sure what it was. A moment later, it didn’t really matter.

Because by then his eyes rolled shut and he simply stopped moving.

###  **_“MICKY!!!”_ **


	7. Chapter 7

Mike shrieked in fear as he saw his friend’s motions cease completely. Micky fell toward the ground, his slender serpentine body limp and unmoving.

“No, nonononono…” Mike leapt straight upwards to intercept Micky’s fall. As he reached out for his friend, Micky brushed against him and abruptly thrashed, throwing his coils around Mike’s chest and arms in a tight embrace. His eyes were still closed, however, and he gave no other motions.

Mike landed again and bolted back up to Zelioth, who looked up at him in some surprise.

“What d'you know about this?” he demanded of the fluffy dragon. Zelioth blinked.

“Know about what?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“What? About th’ fact that my best friend just collapsed on me. If you or anyone else here has done anythin’ t’ hurt him-” he broke off as Zelioth started chuckling.

“I’m sorry.” he said waving off Mike’s suspicious and angry stare. “It’s just.. of course you don’t know. He’s fine. He’s just sleeping.”

“S-sleeping?!” Mike squeaked. “But he… !!!”

“Collapsed midflight?”

“Y-yes…” 

“That’s perfectly normal Spiral behavior. There’s really nothing to be concerned about. He’ll be up and about again in an hour or so. Until then…” Zelioth shrugged, “You’ll have to put up with him. It is very hard to move a sleeping Spiral that doesn’t want to be moved.”

At that moment Micky started snoring. The sound was so normal, so _Micky_ , that Mike allowed himself to relax. He actually didn’t really mind having Micky wrapped around him. His presence was comforting, his snores familiar. Mike poked him, gently of course, and Micky made a grumbling noise and snuggled in tighter.

Mike smiled, the first genuine smile he’d had since waking up here

“Normal!?” Davy spluttered. “You call that normal? You must be joking. Micky could have gotten killed if he’d hit the ground. How could that be normal?”

Davy looked over at Micky before letting out a shudder. It was a good thing that Mike was apparently a really fast and agile dragon now or something awful would have happened to Micky. Thankfully, Mike seemed to be back to his old self of keeping an eye on everything and stepping in when things went wrong.

Then he cocked his head a little at the sight in front of him. Micky seemed pretty relaxed, sleeping like that while wrapped around Mike. And was that a smile on Mike’s face? That was also something that wasn’t all that common of an occurrence.

Davy let out a long sigh. He was already back to being unhappy about this whole dragon thing. But he figured that it might be a good idea to get some more information before something else happened.

“So, Zelioth…You say this is ‘normal Spiral behavior’, right? Is that what Micky is supposed to be? A Spiral thingy? And, and, then what does that make the rest of us then? Are we going to do stuff like that too?”

“Yes, Micky is a Spiral. A high-energy breed, easily distracted, have difficulty focusing on one thing at a time… and prone to passing out in the middle of what they’re doing. As for the rest of you… well you’re a Skydancer. Nimble, graceful, social… and those antennae let you sense magical energies. At least that what they say.”

“What about me’n Pete?” Mike asked.

“Well Peter is a Tundra like myself. We have a very good sense of smell.” Zelioth didn’t elaborate. He didn’t really want to discuss the failings of the Tundra breed, particularly since he tried so hard to overcome them. “And you are a Wildclaw. They’re actually native to this region of the world, although I don’t really know that much about them. You’re the first Wildclaw I’ve seen in this Clan.”

Mike frowned, absentmindedly stroking at one of Micky’s coils as he thought. He saw Peter was watching him and stopped, somewhat self-consciously.

“Thanks for your help. And uh… since it sounds like we’re going to be stuck here a while… is there someplace we could stay?”

“I believe so. There’s a den that’s been unoccupied for some time now east of here. If I recall correctly it should be about the right size for the four of you. You don’t mind lairing together do you?”

“Lairing together… oh no not at all. We’re used to staying together.”

“Ah excellent. I’ll show you the place.”.

During this conversation, Micky stayed fast asleep. He dreamed of home, of walking along the beach and of singing and playing drums. He had no thoughts about being a dragon or the strange world he had landed into. All he knew for now was that he was sleepy, happy and somewhere that was nice and warm to snuggle against. That was more than enough to keep him right where he was.

Meanwhile, Davy glanced over at Mike and Micky and let out a soft snort. The two of them always seemed to stick together closer than anyone else in the band, so he wasn’t that surprised to see this. Still, something about it had a coziness that felt a little too much for even best friends. Especially when Mike stopped petting Micky when the Texan noticed that Peter was watching him. However, he didn’t have long to dwell on that before other ideas took precedence in his mind.

He thought again about what Zelioth had said about the kinds of dragons that they were. Davy felt that what was said about Spirals described Micky perfectly. He also liked the idea of being referred to as nimble and social although he wasn’t sure about the “magic energies” stuff. Zelioth hadn’t really said enough about Peter or Mike’s dragon types to have an opinion about whether or not they suited them. However, he did wonder if there was something about those dragons that explained why Peter and Mike transformed the way they did.

Davy let out a little sigh when Zelioth mentioned something about a place where they could stay. That implied that they would be hanging around for a while. Not a prospect Davy was looking forward to.

Still, there wasn’t much any of them could do for now. Therefore, it made sense to him to seek out ways to make the best of the situation. As he walked along, he took in the sights and a new thought occurred to him.

_‘I wonder if there are a lot of birds here who’d be up for a date….’_


	8. Chapter 8

Zelioth led them to a place a bit out of the way of the center of the Clan. It was built out of the living branches of trees much like most of the rest of the dwellings, although unlike the other dens they’d seen this one backed onto a hill.

“Here you go. It might not be in the best condition though, it has been empty for a while. If there’s any problems just let me or someone else know.”

“How do you build these places like this?” Mike asked, running his hand over the smooth bark of the wall.

“That’s a question better asked of a Nature dragon. I’ll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to raid Storage for decorations. We have lots of stuff so don’t worry about anyone missing what you take. Personal items are kept in individual dens anyway. Storage is over there.” He pointed at another tree towards the center of the Clan. “I’ll send someone to check up on you in a bit.” He smiled and trotted away to bound into the air and fly off.

Peter pushed open the door and looked inside. The place was fairly well lit, the light filtering through the delicate curtain of leaves covering the far wall on their right sufficient to illuminate the room.

“Just like home!” he said happily, flopping down in a sunbeam.

Mike stared. Of all the things he’d expected… a _near perfect_ replica of the pad was probably last on the list, right after ‘his childhood home’.

There were some differences of course, the walls were grown out of the living branches, the ceiling was even higher, and there wasn’t really a staircase, but the layout was unmistakable. The bedrooms were inset in the hill, which pleased him for some reason. The floor was stone.

“Er…”

“Ok, this is weird,” Davy said as he looked around their new home. “Well…just about as weird as everything else that’s going on. Why do they have a place like this around here?”

Davy frowned. He didn’t believe in things like fate or destiny, but it was easy to start re-thinking that position while looking around this place. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the same. It was, however, similar enough that Davy immediately caught onto what had Mike so surprised.

He heaved another sigh. He still did not want to think about this turning into some more than a temporary situation. But he figured that the best thing to do for now would be to just act as if things were normal. Or at least as normal as they could be here.

“Hey, is he ever going to wake up?” Davy said, nodding at Micky. He continued to be relieved that there was nothing seriously wrong with Micky, but that did not make him a fan of the drummer’s snoring.

Besides that, Davy was hoping to do some decorating so he’d have a chance to think without brooding. And he had no intention of doing it on his own.

“I’m not sure.” Mike replied, running his fingers along Micky’s scales absentmindedly. He looked around at the bare walls. It was weird not seeing the eclectic mishmash of posters and pictures they had back home on the walls.

“Zelioth said to give him about an hour. It’s only been about thirty-five minutes.” Mike frowned as he said that. He was sure that was how long Micky’d been asleep. But how did he know? He shook his head.

“I’m gonna see what they’ve got in storage. You guys wanna come?”

Peter nodded and bounded back to his feet. Mike led them to the storeroom. It was full of stuff, very loosely organized.

Davy shrugged and followed Mike to the storage area. As he walked, he looked around at the other dragons nearby. One of them, a blue dragon with a long tail and large, feather-like wings caught his eye. Davy smiled and made a note to look for her later.

Once they got to the storage room, Davy decided to try hovering next to Mike as a way to practice his flying. He looked around Mike’s body at the odd assortment of knick knacks that filled every corner of the area.

“What, a lot of this stuff looks like it came from Earth,” he said. “Did it all fall through a portal too? Or do they just happen to make the same kind of stuff here for dragons to use?”

“I’m not sure…” Mike mused, picking up one such object. He got a sense of immense age from it, though it looked to be in fairly good shape. Setting it down he looked around some more.

The storeroom was pretty clean, the air dry and free of mold and mildew. There were piles of fabric in loose rolls stacked up against one wall, sorted by color. Another pile was of pelts. Lots of pelts of different animals, of different sizes and shapes and textures. And rocks. Lots of rocks of different sizes and colors. He picked up a few and inspected them. He made as if to put them in his pocket before he realized he didn’t actually have any pockets.

In fact, he didn’t have any clothes on at all. None of them did. He had seen some dragons with clothes on, but he’d also seen a number who didn’t, or who had only a few bits of jewelry. So maybe clothes here were optional? No one had said anything about it, so he hoped that was the case.

He continued to explore the storeroom, and soon his clothing worries were relieved as he came upon a section devoted to apparel. He picked up a shirt to see if it would fit and realized that it was far too big… but then it shrank to something closer to his size.

“Now that’s useful…” he murmured. He folded it back up and set it down. He wasn’t entirely sure how to put it on over his wings, plus there was Micky still wrapped around his chest. He did however find a set of pants that he put on with some alacrity. Pants were good. Pants were normal. Monsters didn’t wear pants. People wore pants.

He tried not to think about the massive dinosaur claws on his feet.

He was about to head back to see how the others were doing, when his eye was caught by a statue sitting in a corner all alone. It was a dragon of some sort carved out of stone. Mike tried to pick it up. It was lighter than he’d thought, and he carried it back to where the others were.

Davy peered around the vast collection in the storage area. He noticed the clothing section too and thought about finding some stuff he liked, but decided against it for now. For Davy, clothes needed to be comfortable and fashionable. Thus, he decided to wait until he got a better sense of what other dragons wore before making his own style choices.

He saw Mike pick up a dragon statue and raised an eyebrow in response. After what had happened, he didn’t think Mike would want any reminders of what they had turned into. On the other hand, if they had run across a statue like that back home, he could see one of them making it an addition to the pad.

Figuring that he should look for his own personal touch, Davy took a closer look at the trinkets around him. He went with a couple of vividly colored pieces of fabric and a large fluffy animal pelt for furnishings and some sparkling crystalline figures of animals to brighten up the pad a little more.

Meanwhile, Micky started to stir in his sleep. His dreams had become more disjointed and it was making him restless. As he moved, he became aware that he was cuddling with someone. Someone who felt comfortable and familiar. He didn’t open his eyes, but he had an idea of who it was.

“Mike….” he breathed with a smile. He shifted positions and kept his eyes closed, still feeling too drowsy to fully wake up.

* * *

Peter poked around the storeroom, collecting bits and pieces of stuff. He was fascinated by the feathers scattered around, and he gathered a number of them. He also found some string and twigs, which he started tying together with the feathers into some sort of mobile. That occupied his attention pretty thoroughly until Mike returned. Then, noticing that Mike had pants now, he hopped up to see if there was anything he could wear.

Success! He found a few strands of beads and a flower necklace that looked to be made of real flowers. He wondered how they stayed fresh.

Trotting back to the other side of the storeroom he chanced upon a large cache of bamboo poles. Hmm… He picked one up and blew across one of the open ends, producing a clear note. It wasn’t in tune, but he could fix that. Some sort of wind chimes… Yea. He could use these. He collected a number of shorter pieces, and the string and feathers he’d been playing with, and trotted back to the pad to get to work on his idea.

Mike watched him go, then shook his head. It was better not to wonder about what Peter was thinking at any given moment. It made sense to Peter, and that’s all that really mattered. Trying to understand his thought processes would only give you a headache. Now let’s see… he had a statue, an assortment of neat rocks, a couple of pelts, some bits of cloth that could probably be pieced together into a serviceable blanket (or at least a rug), and… hmm… The statue needed something. He went back to the clothing section and picked up a hat that he then put on the statue. Much better.

He felt Micky stir around his neck and smiled, stroking him a little more. Micky always was fond of falling asleep leaning against him, and Mike for the most part didn’t mind it, (except for when he really needed to pee…). He also didn’t really notice Micky’s weight around him. Whether that was because he was stronger now or because Micky was much lighter he didn’t know. He gathered his selection and hauled it all back to the pad. The statue he put where Mr Schneider usually was.

* * *

Micky stirred some more when he felt someone touching him. His dreams were tapering off with consciousness slowly returning to him. At first, he was confused as to why his body didn’t feel the same as it normally did and was about to panic when he suddenly remembered what had happened to him.

_‘Aw man…it wasn’t just a dream…it’s still happening….’_

Micky blinked slowly as he opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he was back at the pad. The layout of the room he was in looked just like home. But soon he realized that it couldn’t be the pad. Not with the leaves in the walls and the stone floor beneath him. It was just somewhere that looked a lot like the pad.

The drummer yawned and let out a huge sigh as he did so. It was comforting to be in somewhat familiar surroundings. He hoped that they would get to live here if they had to stay awhile. Still, it also reminded him of home and of the life he had there. Even though he liked this place, he doubted it could replace the pad back on Earth.

It took almost a full minute of studying his surroundings before it finally occurred to him that he was up in the air and yet he wasn’t flying. Micky blinked a few more times in confusion as he moved to see where he was. He discovered that he was coiled around something….and that that something was moving.

Startled, Micky uncoiled himself and scampered off with a yelp. He was even more surprised when he found out what he had been coiled around.

“Mike?!”

“Micky! You’re awake!” Mike exclaimed. “You enjoy your nap?”

“Er…yeah….I guess.”

_‘Wait, I was taking a nap? But….weren’t we talking to that other dragon…? Zelioth, right. Weren’t we talking to him?’_

_‘How we’d end up here?’_

Micky frowned. He didn’t remember much of what had happened before now. He remembered that Zelioth said something about the color of their eyes and that it wasn’t going to be easy to get back home. But after that, it got fuzzier.

Micky glanced over at Mike. The Texan seemed to be in a more upbeat mood….and now he was wearing pants. He couldn’t help but smile in response to that, but there was something else that was nagging at him.

“Um, Mike….was I…sleeping on you?”

“Yeah, you were. After I caught you, you wrapped yourself around me and wouldn’t let go. And you seemed pretty comfortable, so I figured I’d let you be.” Mike blew out a breath.

“That’s apparently something your sort of dragon does. Fall asleep like that.”

“My sort?” Micky echoed. He figured that Mike was talking about the fact that some of the dragons looked similar to each other. Thus, it made sense that there were “sorts” of dragons that they could be. He made a mental note to ask Mike about them later.

Right now, though, he was more interested in the fact that Mike had caught him. Had he fallen from somewhere? But if that was the case, why didn’t he just fly to stop himself from falling? Why did Mike have to catch him?

Micky frowned again. His mind was swirling with questions, but something else Mike said caught his attention.

“I wrapped myself around you?” he asked. Mike nodded.

“It seemed almost automatic, y’dig? You passed out and as soon as I touched you y’ threw your coils around me and hung on.”

At that moment, Micky was glad that he was now a scarlet color because there was no way he could have hidden how much he was blushing otherwise. Sure, he had fallen asleep leaning against Mike before, but something about this was different. Even though he couldn’t remember much about what had happened leading up to when he passed out, Micky did remember how he felt while he was drifting between being asleep and awake. He remembered feeling warm and happy. As well as comforted and secure.

He felt at home….and not just because he was dreaming about it.

Micky coughed and tried to shift his attention to his surroundings.

“So uh, what is this place? Are we going to be staying here?”

Mike shrugged.

“Yea. Zelioth said we could stay here for now. ‘Cording to him this place has been empty for a while and so isn’t in the best of shape, but it’s the right size for the four of us. As for why it looks like this…” He shook his head. “I didn’t get a chance to ask. He did say we could take what we like from the storeroom to spruce up the place.”

“Huh weird,” Micky said with a shrug. “Well….I guess it’s good that we got a place to stay. Hey, uh, can we go to that storeroom together? I was thinking we could see if there’s some more stuff we could use to make it more homey around here?”

Micky didn’t really want to explain why, but right now, he didn’t want to be alone. He still felt unsure about his passing out suddenly like that. He was starting to vaguely remember that he’d been a significant height off the ground. If Mike hadn’t caught him….

The drummer shook his head. From what he could tell, Mike was doing better and he suspected that Peter and Davy were ok too. He didn’t want to ruin the relative calm by dwelling over his own fears.

“Yea, sure. It’s not too far.” Mike walked down to the storeroom. He was glad Micky was awake now. He did notice that Micky seemed a bit weirded out by the fact that he had been sleeping on him, so he refrained from offering Micky a ride on his shoulders even though it would make him feel better, knowing that Micky was safe there. He still couldn’t get over just how _small_ Micky was now. From what he’d seen Micky’s breed was one of the smallest ones around. It’s a good thing he seemed to be ok with flying most of the time, else Mike would be really worried about him getting stepped on.

Micky followed Mike, continuing to try to fly with a little more grace. He still doubted that he could do anything fancy, but at least it was getting easier to fly straight and not exhaust himself in the process. He really did not want a repeat of what had happened a little while ago.

A part of him would have liked to gone back to being wrapped around Mike, but he didn’t think that was a good idea. Sure, Mike was ok with him doing that, but it wasn’t as if the Texan had much of a choice.

The drummer let out a sigh although he did his best to hide it. He wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep tonight. This form didn’t seem like one that was well suited to just lying around on the floor. But Micky figured he’d have to make do.

“Here we are.” Mike said as he arrived in the storeroom with Micky fluttering along next to him. “Zelioth said we could help ourselves to what’s in here. They’ve got some really groovy stuff in here too. Just try not to get lost babe. It’s a lot bigger in here than you’d think.” He wondered how long it would take for Micky to find the crate of miscellaneous mechanical parts…

Micky’s eyes widened at the assortment in front of him. Even though he had seen other dragons walking around with accessories, he didn’t think there would be much stuff just lying around for them to use.

He drifted over to the clothing section and glanced through the selection. After seeing Mike in a pair of pants, he was curious about finding something to wear. But he also wasn’t sure about what would work for his long, sinewy body.

He looked through the piles of fabric and pelts until something about a large wooden crate in the corner caught his attention. Curious, Micky flew over and was surprised to see bits of machinery thrown together into a pile.

Micky smiled. He wasn’t sure what any of it was for, but something about that that box of parts stirred the mad scientist within him.

Mike heard a noise from the direction of the box of parts he had noticed earlier. Two minutes and forty-seven seconds. He smiled slightly, then frowned in puzzlement. That was the second time he’d come up with a strangely precise answer when wondering about how long something was. And he was dead certain he was right.

He wandered about the storeroom to distract himself from that thought and came upon an ancient looking chest in a corner. The dust was thick here, as if no one had been back here for some time. He touched the box. It felt like it had been placed here fifty years ago, but also like it’d only been here since yesterday.

He’d been getting a feeling when he handled things, a sense of the age of the item. He couldn’t really explain it, but he could sort of _feel_ the time accumulating around the object. He’d not paid too much attention to it, passing it off as his imagination running wild. Still, maybe he should see what was in the box.

He brushed the dust off, revealing that the box had been blue once, though the paint was cracked and flaking with age. The clasp was stubborn, though it yielded to his determined claws. He opened it and looked inside. He gasped.

“MICKY!!!”


	9. Chapter 9

Micky picked through the box of parts, giving most of it an interested, but cursory glance. This stuff was not what Micky expected to find here at all. His idea of dragons was that they lived in a fairy-tale like medieval time. A world of knights and castles and kings and queens. Certainly not within an age of industrialization.

As he studied the bits and bobs in the crate, he started to notice how distracted he felt. Or no, not exactly distracted. Busy. Like he had a million thoughts running through his brain at full tilt. Granted, he normally tended to think and speak about a mile a minute, but this seemed to be on another level from that.

It was as if his thoughts, or rather how they were processed, was changing, speeding up and getting more complex. Part of him was getting a rush from it. Another part was scared that he was becoming less human.

Mike’s yell broke up that train of thought. He dropped the gear in his hand and zipped over to where Mike was crouched.

“Mike?! Mike, what is it? What…..”

“I….”

Mike reached trembling hands into the box and withdrew a very familiar object. Something he’d never thought he’d see here. Something that he knew so very well. Something special.

His guitar.

His custom twelve-string blonde Gretsch.

He clutched it to his chest, shaking in disbelief, terrified that it was an illusion, that he would lose it if he let go. And he couldn’t let that happen. Not after all this. He could not lose it.

It was who he was.

Micky stared at Mike, his mouth hanging open. The presence of machinery had surprised him before, but the sight of Mike’s blonde Gretsch left him speechless. First the pad, then this….how could all of this happen just by chance?

After getting over his initial shock, Micky peered into the box. It didn’t take long for him to spot his bass drum which had a distinctive nick along one of the edges. Even though he couldn’t see all of it, he was certain that his entire drum kit was in there.

“Mike,” he said, his voice an awestruck whisper. “What is this? How…how did this stuff get here?”

Mike shook his head.

“I-I don’t know Mick.” he said, voice cracking with emotion. It seemed impossible… but wasn’t being turned into dragons impossible? “I don’t know what’s impossible anymore.” He swallowed.

“We… we should take this back to the pad.” Reluctantly, Mike gently set the guitar back in the crate and closed the lid. He seized hold of one of the handles.

“Gimme a hand with this will ya?”

Micky nodded eagerly. He figured that they could come back for stuff like the box of machine parts later. This was far more important.

He flew over and hovered near the other handle. For a moment, he wondered what Mike was thinking in asking him to help carry this thing given how much bigger just about everyone was than him. Still, he reasoned that even a little bit of help could make it easier for Mike to carry this stuff.

Micky latched his hands around the handle and yanked at it. He still had no idea why their instruments showed up in this world, but he couldn’t deny how happy it made him. Especially when he saw the effect it seemed to have on Mike. It was essential for them to get this stuff back to the pad.

Much to his surprise, the box started to lift up with not nearly as much physical effort as he thought it would entail. Then again, he imagined that Mike was probably doing most of the work.

Mike had actually forgotten for a moment there that Micky was so small now. Still, he did seem to be helping, so Mike lifted his end of the chest and started to haul it back.

It was easier than he’d expected. He’d never have thought he’d be able to carry everyone’s instruments and a large crate all at once as a human. Was he stronger as he was now? That might explain how he was able to move that statue. It also seemed to be easier to lift once he left the storeroom, crossing the mossy ground between the storeroom and the pad. About halfway there he stopped and set down the crate.

“You doin’ alright there Mick?” he asked.

Micky had been entirely focused on carrying the instruments to the pad and on thinking about how they could have showed up on Sornieth. It was entirely possible that it was a freak coincidence, but that seemed awfully hard to swallow. No, Micky was starting to wonder if there was some kind of purposefulness to what was happening to them.

When Mike sat the box down and started to talk, Micky was startled and had abruptly let go of the box.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he spluttered.

That surprised him too. He _was_ fine. It hadn’t taken hardly any effort at all to help move that box. But how was that possible?

“I should be asking you that,” he said with a small laugh. “You’re doing most of the work.”

Mike nodded.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself,” he said. He started to pick up his end of the box, but paused. “Let me try something…” he said, waving Micky away from the crate. He considered the box for a moment, then picked it up. It was heavy… but he could manage it. Really, the only real issue with hauling it home by himself was the fact that the box was pretty unwieldy and he didn’t want to risk it unbalancing and damaging the contents. Although maybe Micky could keep it steady…

Nah. Better to do it the way they had been. After all, Micky said he was fine. He set the box down and grabbed the handle again.

“Come on then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Micky said. He tried grabbing the handle and lifting, but suddenly found it much harder than it was the first time.

“Huh?!” he said, struggling to pull it up. Why had it been so much easier before? It didn’t seem like he was hardly lifting it then.

Micky ground his jaw and tugged at the handle as hard as he could, grunting as he strained to lift it off the ground. He kept trying in short spurts for a couple minutes before finally giving up.

“I…I don’t get it. I could do it before. What happened?”

Micky turned his face away. Passing out without warning had been bad enough, but now it seemed he could lose what strength he had at any moment too. The fact that he was so small now compared to everyone else only compounded the helpless feeling that was starting to grow inside him.

Mike frowned as he saw Micky’s difficulty with the crate. That was weird. He had been surprised when Micky had been able to move the crate at all the first time, and his experiment with lifting the crate himself just 1 minute and 26 seconds earlier had confirmed that Micky had been in fact supporting it. (That was in fact why he had done that test, he was curious about not just how much he could carry but how much Micky was carrying. The box _had_ been noticeably heavier without Micky’s assistance.)

“I don’t know Mick,” he said, deeply puzzled. “Were you doing anything differently?”

“No!” Micky nearly squeaked. Then he let out a huge sigh. He knew that getting upset wasn’t a good idea right now, but it was getting difficult for him to keep pushing his feelings down. He wanted to keep it together for Mike because the Texan had enough on his plate right now.

The drummer took another huge breath and turned back to face Mike.

“No, I don’t think I did. I was just holding onto it like this.” He picked up the handle again and pulled upward to demonstrate. “And just… tried to carry it along. I figured I was just keeping it steady or something anyway.”

Micky frowned again. He could tell that Mike had to work harder to carry it by himself, but that didn’t make sense. Wasn’t he doing that before? And yet, for some reason, Mike seemed to need his help. Not to mention how important it was to get those instruments back to the pad.

He was so wrapped up in his worries about how to move the box that he didn’t notice when it moved a couple of inches off the ground.

Mike, however, did notice.

“Uh… Micky…” he began, then hesitated. Given how excitable Micky tended to be he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to bring this to his attention. Still… they did need to get the instruments back to the pad. He grabbed the other handle.

“You’re… uh…”

“Huh..?”

Micky looked over at Mike. He wasn’t sure what the Texan was trying to tell him, but he sensed that there was something on Mike’s mind. However, he also noticed that Mike was holding the handle again and appeared to want to work on moving the instruments.

“Yeah, I…I guess we should get back,” he said, reaching up to carefully scratch his head. He turned and started flying back toward the pad, not even thinking about how he still had a grip on the box.


	10. Chapter 10

Peter looked up from his fiddling as Mike and Micky returned with the crate.

“Hey guys! What’s in the box?” he asked curiously, then sneezed at the dust. It was a pretty powerful sneeze, and the feathers he had gathered scattered about the room. He frowned at them, and a breeze swept them back into a pile at his feet. He smiled. “Thank you.” he said before trotting over to Mike and Micky’s crate, tail swishing curiously.

“Just a minute Pete. Davy should be here too. Davy?” Mike called out. “You need to see this.”

Davy looked up from what he was doing to see Mike and Micky carrying in a large blue box. Truth be told, he was pretty sure Mike was doing most of the lifting and Micky was just hanging onto the edge of it. But he chose not to comment on that.

Instead, he walked over as the two of them were sitting the crate down onto the floor. He watched as Micky shoved open the lid and moved closer to look inside.

“Wha…? Now wait a minute,” he said. “This is just too weird. How did that stuff get here? And how’s it all fitting in there anyway?”

“I know, weird, right?” Micky said with a grin. “It’s like it’s got more room on the inside than you’d think when looking at it. Mike and I found it in the storage area.”

Davy looked down again into the box. He could see the bright colors of his numerous maracas along the edges. Even though he couldn’t see the bottom, he had a feeling that all of their instruments would be in there.

But why? Why of all things did their instruments appear? And how did they get there in the first place?

“Mike…I don’t know about this.”

Mike nodded as he withdrew his guitar from the box.

“Yeah. Between this and the pad…” he shook his head. “Somethin’ is definitely up.” He watched Peter pull his banjo out of the box. _Wait a minute…_

“Hey Pete could I see your banjo for a sec?” Mike asked him.

“Sure.” Peter replied, handing the instrument to Mike. It _couldn’t_ be the same instrument as back home. It was way smaller than Mike’s guitar. Too small for Mike to play, but the perfect size for Peter. He frowned and handed the instrument back.

Micky cocked his head to the side as he watched Mike inspect Peter’s banjo. At first, he couldn’t see what Mike was so curious about. It looked like the same banjo that Peter had played hundreds of times. And yet, Mike looked like he was confused about something after he took a closer look at it.

Then he glanced over at Mike’s guitar again. It had always been one of the bigger ones in their collection. Twelve string Gretsch’s tended to be bigger. But it suddenly occurred to Micky that Mike was also a lot bigger now as a dragon.

So why didn’t the guitar look like a toy rather than an actual instrument when Mike held it?

“Mike! The instruments…are they….changing size?”

“Wait, what?” Davy said. “What do you mean, changing? They’re the same ones we’ve always had. Look here.” Davy fished a pair of striped maracas out from the crate. “See, these are the same ones I got for my birthday last year.”

“I don’t know if they’re changing size… not like the clothing here is," Mike mused, "Otherwise Pete’s banjo would’ve gotten bigger when I held it. It’s more like they’re sized to match us. So to you, your maracas are the same size. But to me… may I see?” he held out his hand for Davy’s maracas.

Micky watched Davy give Mike a look of disbelief as he handed his maracas over. Sure enough, they looked much smaller in Mike’s hands rather than suddenly becoming more proportionate.

_‘So the instruments changed because we did?’_

_“Or….did they change for the same reason we did? Does this place make things change?’_

Micky blinked, surprised at the idea that had come into his head. Even though Zelioth had mentioned that the portal had probably brought them here and changed them at the same time, he now wondered if it was possible that just being here was what had changed them from human to dragon. Felara had said that there weren’t any humans in Sornieth. That could be because humans just never had the chance to come into existence due to how life evolved here.

But….what if it was because there simply couldn’t be any humans here? Because if a human did show up, they would become a dragon.

Micky shook his head. A part of him wanted to explore this possibility further even though he didn’t know how he could verify it. But he was also skittish about leaving the others right now and decided it was better to focus on what was going on right now.

“So uh…you guys want to try them out? You know, see if they still work and everything?”

“Yea. Uh, do you need help setting up your kit?” Mike asked him as he pulled the rest of the instruments out of the box, namely Micky’s drum kit and Peter’s other instruments. There was still something in the crate, he saw. Reaching in, he pulled out a smaller box. Inside were dozens of spare strings for the assorted instruments. He reached in again and pulled out a bundle of drum sticks which he handed to Micky.

“Man we are set! This box has got everything!” He had been wondering what they would do for parts when something inevitably broke. This at least meant that they wouldn’t have to worry about that for at least a little while.

“Y-yeah,” Micky said, taking the bundle of drum sticks and looking them over. They looked like they would fit in his hands ok. Claws and all. Still, he wonder how he was going to play his drums when he couldn’t sit on a stool and work the bass drum with his foot very easily.

_‘A magical coincidence that thought of everything? Davy’s right this is too weird….’_

Micky watched as Mike set up the drums in the exact way Micky normally positioned them back home. He supposed that he could try to use his tail to work the foot pedal. That might be easier than trying to use one of his actual feet right now.

Thoughts about his bass drum…and part of the reason why he positioned the drums the way he did. He gently kicked his right back leg a couple times when he was sure no one was watching….and was surprised to find that it was completely pain free. It was as if the disease that had affected his hip had never happened.

At first, Micky was concerned about what this could mean….but it wasn’t long before he was happy more than anything else.


	11. Chapter 11

Peter picked up his bass and plucked at the strings. He grimaced. It was not at all in tune. He tried to push up his sleeve a bit to get it out of the way of the strings…

Except that it wasn’t his sleeve interfering, it was his fur. He supposed he could trim it… but he didn’t really want to do that if he could help it. Maybe there was something in the storeroom he could use… He trotted off.

It was beautiful outside. He spread his wings and leapt into the air, laughing with delight. The ground receded beneath him as he rose higher and higher. What freedom! He’d always wanted to fly. High above the ground, though still below the treetops.

Wait… Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be doing? Oh yea! He was going to the storeroom to see if there was something he could hold his fur back with. He swooped down, wind blowing his mane and fur back. He came to ground at the entrance to the storeroom, a bit guilty that he had taken so long just to get there. He tilted his head in thought. Didn’t he see gloves somewhere earlier?

He did! And better yet they were fingerless. He slipped them on and padded back to the pad.

“Peter! There you are!” Mike exclaimed. He had been quite alarmed when he’d seen that Peter had disappeared when he wasn’t looking. Moments later he remembered that that was just something Peter did, that he had _probably not_ been abducted… (although that was also something Peter did with depressing frequency.)

“What have I told you about wandering off without saying anything?” he scolded the fluffy bassist. Peter looked embarrassed.

“Well I was only going to the storeroom for something to hold my fur back…” he explained. Mike sighed.

“Pete, it’s bad enough back home when you don’t tell anyone you’re going out. Here… you gotta stop doing that.” He patted Peter gently. “I’m not saying you can’t go out, just tell us before you do, ok?”

Initially, Micky hadn’t even noticed that Peter was gone. He was too busy trying to figure out what to do with his drums.

Mike had finished setting up his kit and Micky spent the next couple of minutes studying it. He probably could fit on the stool if he really wanted to sit there, but for some reason, it didn’t seem like it would be as comfortable as it was when he was a human. He supposed that he could hover in the area where he normally sat, but he wasn’t sure if he could concentrate on flying and playing at the same time.

Micky twirled one drumstick around his fingers while he tried to figure this out. A song popped into his head and he started to tap his foot in time with the music. He didn’t notice it when the foot pedal next to his bass drum moved very slightly along with his tapping.

Eventually, he looked up and noticed that Peter was gone. The drummer tried to not panic, but wasn’t able to stop himself from gulping in response. It was silly, to get so worried. Peter was probably just outside looking at the clouds or something. Still, Micky found it hard to get rid of his anxiety of not having everyone there right now.

When Peter reappeared, he was hit with a wave of immense relief. Micky was tempted to scold him too, but figured that was better that Mike handled that. He even managed to smile as he watched Mike pat Peter’s head. But then, something else caught his eye.

“Mike…your hand…isn’t that the one that got smashed when you were a kid?”

“Yea? What about it?” Mike asked, confused by the sudden change of topic.

“I thought you couldn’t really use your finger on that hand,” Micky explained. “But it looks ok now. Do you think you can use it?”

“It does?” Mike asked. “But…” He looked down at his right hand and made a fist. His shattered finger curled with his other fingers, just like the fingers on his other hand did. He then flexed each finger… and the shattered one responded not with a weak twitch but with the same range of motion as his other fingers.

This… this wasn’t right. He knew he should be happy that he could use his hand normally but all he felt was a vague sense of horror. That… that was who he was. Part of how he defined himself. He’d long since accepted that he’d never regain use of that finger, and really, he didn’t really notice it that much except when someone asked him why his finger flopped around when he played.

He continued to stare at his hand. Did that mean…

“Micky. Your leg. Is it…?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s better,” Micky smiled. “In fact, it’s as good as new. No pain at all.”

Micky’s smile faltered slightly when he saw Mike’s response to his finger being fixed. The drummer thought that Mike would be happy. But instead, he seemed sad and confused again. He almost wished now that he hadn’t brought it up.

“Um, I’m still not sure how I’ll play the drums this way. Maybe Davy will let me have a go at his maracas instead.”

“You must be joking,” Davy snorted. “The maracas are my thing. There’s got to be a way you can still play drums.”

Micky shrugged. He was still pleased to have his leg stop hurting and he thought he was starting to get the hang of flying. Still, it seemed like he was at a disadvantage as a dragon overall. The others were bigger, more agile and better able to adapt to their environment. As far as he could tell, there weren’t any advantages to being a Spiral type of dragon.

Micky shook his head again. He didn’t like to dwell on negative thoughts for any length of time. He needed something to distract him.

“Hey, uh Mike, do you think we can get that box of machine parts back to the pad too?”

“Probably.” Mike replied. “Considering that I could pick up that crate…” he nodded at the box the instruments were in. He was still not entirely sure what to think about that. Sure, he dwarfed the others, but that still seemed like a lot to carry at once. And yet he didn’t feel like he’d been exerting himself that much. No sore muscles, no discomfort at all. What was the upper limit of his strength? It felt like he could keep going no matter what load was placed on him.

“You want me t’ go get it?”

“No!” Micky quickly realized how that probably sounded and tried to cover up his nervousness. “I mean, nah, you don’t have to do it alone, babe. We can help you if you want.”

“Sure, we can do that,” Davy shrugged. “What did you say it was? A box of machine parts?”

“Yeah, I found it in a corner of the storage area.” Micky replied. “Weird, huh? You wouldn’t think they’d have stuff like that in a world run by dragons.”

Micky laughed again. He was eager to root through that box some more and hoped that he could find some tools to tinker with the stuff inside. If nothing else, it would distract him from the things that worried him so much right now.

Mike noticed that Micky seemed a bit anxious, and he suspected he knew why he wanted the box. Micky tended to turn to fiddling around with things when he was upset.

“Alright then. We should probably return this crate too…” He checked one last time to make sure it was empty, then closed it and picked it up, maneuvering it to rest between his wings which he used to hold it steady. Then he headed for the door, moving easily despite being encumbered by the unwieldy crate.

Micky nodded and followed Mike outside. Davy and Peter came up behind him. As they went over to the storage area, Micky kept thinking about how he wished he could help Mike out with that crate. Sure, it probably wasn’t as heavy now that all the instruments were out of it. But Micky wasn’t sure how he felt about Mike being the workhorse of the group.

The drummer looped around as they got closer to the storage area. He wasn’t sure what he could build with the parts he saw, but he had several ideas of what he’d like to build. An alarm so they’d know if someone came into the pad. Some kind of compass so they wouldn’t get so lost. Maybe even a radio so they could talk to each other if they got separated.

He was so busy thinking of how he could construct these items, he didn’t notice that a knot was forming in his tail and that another one had gotten started toward the end of his torso. That is, he didn’t notice until it was too late.

“Urk, ah…Mike…..Mike, I uh….could you help me out?”

Mike looked over at Micky.

“Mmm? What is i- uh… Mick? Oh man. How did you manage to do that?” He wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or alarmed at the fact that Micky had managed to get himself tangled up in his own coils. Although he had to admit that he wasn’t really surprised that Micky had managed to do that. Considering how accident prone he was… Mike shook his head in disbelief. He caught Micky in his arms.

“Ahh…” he sighed as he looked Micky over. “Man you don’t make things easy do ya Mick? What am I gonna do with you… Uh, can you relax at all? Cuz I don’t wanna hurt you trying to loosen these knots.” He ran his fingers along a section of Micky’s coils.

How do you untangle a person?


	12. Chapter 12

Micky made sure to laugh. It was kind of a funny thing to happen. That is, when he thought about it happening to someone else. So he tried to focus on that.

But Mike’s words still stung a little. He knew that the Texan didn’t mean anything by it. And normally, it wouldn’t faze him at all because it was the truth. He often didn’t make things easy for himself. Mainly because “easy” frequently went hand-in-hand with “boring”.

However, right now, with all of his worries about how vulnerable he was as a dragon, Mike’s words served as a reminder that it wasn’t just going to be difficult for him. It was also going to be a pain for the guys to look after him.

“I’ll try,” he said in response to Mike’s question. He closed his eyes and put his mind to thinking about something else. Soon, his thoughts drifted to music again and playing with the guys. It was a bittersweet memory right now, but it was the first one he could really focus on.

Off to the side, a pair of drumsticks wobbled off the ground and clumsily moved to rest on a drum head.

Mike felt Micky’s coils relax and loosen a bit where he was knotted up.

“Ok Mick… now I’m gonna try to undo these knots. Uh… tell me if I pull too hard or if it hurts at all, ok?” he said softly. He tugged gently at one of the loops in the knot in Micky’s tail, carefully sliding his friend’s body out of the knot, loosening it and drawing the end of his tail free. He was slightly surprised to discover Micky’s tail was tipped with a triangular spade tip.

“There we go. That’s one down…” The knot in his body was another story. Micky had managed to loop another section of his tail around his leg. If he could just free his friends leg it would be fine, but that was complicated by the weird wings Micky had on his legs that prevented the loop from just sliding off.

“Mick can you uh fold this?” he asked, hand on the leg-wing. “If you do that and then pull your leg through that should get you free…”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Micky replied.

He looked back at the wing and a couple seconds later, he was able to pull it tight against his body. Then he wiggled his foot to help him move his leg along. It wasn’t long before he finally managed to get his leg free and the knot fell apart. He immediately rose up from Mike’s grip.

“Um, thanks, babe,” he mumbled. “Let’s get that box before something else happens.”

He zipped in front of Mike toward the entrance of the storage area. He was still embarrassed over literally getting tied in knots. Granted, he had no intention of brooding over it. He’d rather laugh it off than think too much about it. But in order to get started on that, he needed something to occupy his mind and time to allow those negative thoughts to get buried deep inside.

Mike followed Micky into the storeroom. He was starting to worry about him… more than usual that is. He hoped that having the box of parts to play with would cheer Micky up. Seeing Micky upset didn’t help his own ability to cope at all. He set down the crate in the corner he’d found it in before heading over to the box of machine parts.

It wasn’t quite as big as the other box, though it was full to the brim with bits of metal and plastic.

He slid it away from the wall into the aisle they were standing in, once again without a great deal of effort. That was starting to worry him. Maybe this box was smaller than the crate with the instruments, but the instruments were mostly wood. This box was full of metal, and more densely packed too, but he could still move it around. He was almost afraid to pick it up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know if he could lift it. Because if he tried, and he succeeded… he didn’t really want to consider the implications of that.

“Hey Mike, you sure you don’t want me and Peter to help you with that?” Davy asked.

Micky opened his mouth to offer his assistance too, but decided against it. It was clear that he couldn’t always lift stuff. So it might be better to let Davy and Peter help out so that Mike could keep the box steady. The last thing they needed was to worry about Mike getting hurt.

As Mike pulled the box out of the wall, Micky took another look inside of it. There were a lot of parts that he didn’t recognize as anything he had seen on Earth. Granted, there were plenty of machines he had never seen in detail. Yet something about the way they were constructed made Micky think that there probably weren’t any Earth equivalents. And that would put a major crimp in his plans to make instruments they could use.

Still, staring at the parts stuffed into the box was enough to feed his curiosity. Maybe he couldn’t construct some of the things he had in mind, but he might be able to learn something by trying to piece some of these parts together.

Either way, Micky was certain that he was looking at hours of work. Something he was more than happy to take on right now.

* * *

Mike looked at the box, and at his friends, and back at the box. Then he knelt, seized the handles… and lifted it. Then he set it back down. He was shaking, but not from the exertion.

How was that possible?

Peter saw that, and shoved against the box with his shoulder experimentally. It didn’t move, and he shoved harder, digging his claws into the wooden floor. He managed to shove it about… four inches? before he stopped, fur ruffled as he gave the box a dirty look. His winds weren’t helping either; while he knew that theoretically you could throw all sorts of things around with the wind, like in tornadoes, he didn’t quite have the hang of generating something that strong yet. Still, he blew a gust at it petulantly.

Mike shivered.

“It’s kinda drafty in here isn’t it? Huh.” He watched Peter’s efforts. If Peter could only shove it four inches when he was the most solidly built out of the four of them… well then he supposed it was up to him. He picked up the crate again.

Davy was about to agree with Mike when he suddenly felt an odd sensation. He realized that some of his antennae were twitching.

 _‘Right, what’s that about then?’_ he wondered. _‘Unless it’s just this breeze. Yeah, that’s probably all it is. Nothing weird about that.’_

Davy pushed those thoughts out of his head and moved closer to Mike _._

“You’re right about that,” Davy said with a shudder. “That’ll happen with places when they get really old….like this place looks. Anyway, let’s get back where it’s warmer.”

Micky nodded in agreement. He watched in awe as Mike picked up the heavy box with relative ease. He wished he could be strong like that too and help Mike carry it, if only because it was clear that the Texan was a little disturbed at how easily he seemed to manage tasks like that.

Then again, he had also watched Peter get over not being able to move it pretty fast. Maybe Peter was onto something. Maybe it was better to not think too much about stuff like that while they were here. Then maybe they could have a bit of normalcy.

Even though Micky wasn’t sure if they had ever had much of it before… or ever would again.

Mike took a deep breath and let it out again to steady his nerves before heading out with the box.

As soon as he set foot on the ground outside the storeroom the crate seemed to become easier to carry. He hoisted it onto his shoulders, carrying it the same way he had carried the other crate back to the storeroom. With the load balanced like that it was much easier to move and he made good time back to the pad where he set the crate down with a thump.

“Hey Mike, I think I’ll head back to the storage place for one last look around,” Davy said. “Just to make sure there’s nothing else we might want right away.”

Davy trotted off, making sure to go slowly so he could check out more of the other dragons who were milling around. He didn’t see the one lovely dragon that had caught his eye earlier, but did notice a couple of others who were also eye-catching. After one last appreciative look, Davy went back into storage.

Back at the pad, Micky began to pull things out of the box. He had forgotten to look around for tools, but there were a few basic ones in the box that he figured he could work with. He studied each piece as he pulled it out and started to make piles by grouping similar looking objects together.

Mike watched Micky work, a small smile on his face. He always enjoyed watching Micky tinker with things, showing that nerdy side that he usually hid around other people. It was actually kinda cute…

He sighed, and gazed at his hands. Hands that were covered in fine emeral _\- Shamrock-_ shamrock green feathers...

He blinked. Shamrock? That was weird. He wouldn’t have used that word to describe his color… but it fit somehow. Strange. He looked back over at where Micky was busily fiddling around. Micky was crimson and… _tangerine_ , he thought. Hmm.

He examined himself, his new body, taking in details. He had an impressive degree of flexibility in his long neck, enough that he could turn his head around to examine his back and wings without needing a mirror. His wings were a dark slate- no, _shale_ grey color, and as he spread them cautiously he was astonished to see how broad his wingspan was. He folded them up again and went back to watching Micky.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Davy found a couple more things to decorate with in the storage area: a beaded curtain with gems substituted for most of the beads and a couple of round orbs made of a smooth polished stone-like substance. He was carrying them in a makeshift sack of a section of cloth decorated with gold zigzag patterns over blue and purple tie-dye. He had always appreciated bright, colorful things, but for some reason, he enjoyed the prospect of decorating their pad with shiny, brilliantly hued baubles even more right now.

As he was walking back, he caught another glimpse of the dragon who had caught his eye earlier. Seeing her in the sunlight really brought out the loveliness of her long blue wings. And the dress she had suited her well.

 _‘Well why not?’_ he thought. _‘We could use all the friends we can get around here.’_

Davy put on his best smile and took off in the direction she was moving. 

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5726262)

Mnissath saw the Skydancer approach and stopped, smiling.

“You’re new here aren’t you?” he hummed invitingly. “My name’s Mnissath, but you can call me Nissa. If you like.”

“Nissa? That’s a lovely name,” he said, making sure to smile back as charmingly as he could as a dragon. “My name is David. And yes, you could say I’m just arrived.”

Davy wasn’t sure if his eyes would sparkle the way they normally did when he saw a beautiful girl, but it felt like they could be. There seemed to be a rise in the temperature around them. Not that Davy minded that at all.

“I was just taking some things to my place,” he continued, motioning toward the pad. “Once I am done, perhaps you could show me around here?”

“David…” Mnissath murmured. “That’s an unusual name. And it would be my pleasure to show you around. There are so many things to see here.” He winked. His feathered crest fluttered. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“I think I already am,” Davy said, his smile widening. “Perhaps we could start with your favorite places. Where do you like to go on a pretty day like this?”

At the back of Davy’s mind, he realized that he still needed to get his stuff back to the pad. Still, he saw nothing wrong with setting up a date for later.

“I like to take a walk down by the reservoir. It’s nice and peaceful. And there’s some lovely flowers in bloom right now. It’s an amazing sight. Maybe later we could get some food and head up there?”

“I’d love to,” Davy said, smiling again. “I can meet you at your place, if you’d like. Or maybe we can meet right here. Then we can go together and have a picnic after we have our walk.”

Inside, Davy was pleased with how this was going. A part of him still found it more than a bit weird that he was so eager to go out on a date with a dragon. Then again, he had always prided himself on being able to appreciate feminine beauty in many forms.

However, his mind drifted back to what she had in mind for her date, and Davy found that there was one question he absolutely had to ask.

“Nissa….what kind of food would you like to take there?”

“Well whatever you’d like! I was thinking I would get a nice broiled trout, but I’m sure you’d rather have something else.”

“No no, trout sounds wonderful,” Davy insisted. At least, normally it did. He loved seafood back home, but something about the way it sounded to him now made him wonder if it was be as appetizing to him as a dragon. Davy then decided to cover all his bases.

“I’ll try to bring some roasted vegetables for a side,” he added. “Then we can have a nice dinner together and watch the stars come out.”

“That sounds great. Meet you here in two hours?” Mnissath said.

“Right, I’ll be here,” Davy said. He figured he could go back to Felara’s place and ask her for a little food to take with him. While he wasn’t thrilled with her attempts to feed him bugs, he had to admit that her vegetable dish had been very good.

Maybe he could ask Felara if there was some chore or errand he could do in exchange for the food. He thought it over as he walked back to the pad.


	14. Chapter 14

Meanwhile, Micky was getting close to putting…something together.

He wasn’t sure what it was. But he noticed that some of the pieces looked as if they were made of the same exact metal with markings along the edges. Soon, he was able to find several more pieces with similar markings and discovered that the interlocked with each other perfectly. Thus, he stopped sorting and put all of his energy to constructing whatever this was.

He figured that when he was finished, he could ask Zelioth about it. Maybe it could turn out to be something really useful.

He thought he was almost finished when another intriguing bit of metal that didn’t fit his current puzzle caught his eye.

* * *

A couple minutes later Micky was working on his third half-completed gadget.

It wasn’t really a conscious effort on his part to keep switching from one thing to another. He just found it easier to keep his focus on what he was doing if he didn’t stick with one thing for too long.

He was so engaged in his task, it took him several minutes before he finally looked up and noticed that something was different.

“Hey….where did Davy go?”

Mike blinked.

“Uh… I think he went to go get some more decorations.” He was a bit perturbed by the way Micky kept switching between projects. Sure, Micky was easily distracted, but not usually to this degree.

“You feelin’ ok Mick?”

“Huh, oh I’m fine,” Micky said, waving a claw dismissively. “I’m having a little fun.”

Micky looked down at the half-completed object in his hands. In the brief time he was talking to Mike, he had already lost his train of thought about what to do next with it. Maybe it would be better to go back to a previous one?

“Um, how long as Davy been gone?” he asked. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

At the back of his mind, Micky felt weird about worrying so much over Davy. Davy often went out by himself for dates. There was no reason to be anxious over it now. He probably just got distracted looking for stuff to decorate with.

“You sure about that Mick? You seem more distracted than usual.” Mike replied. He didn’t realize that the entire time he’d been watching Micky he hadn’t moved at all aside from the minimal motions required for speaking. Not a single stray movement.

“Ah, it’s nothing, babe,” he assured Mike. “I’m just kind of restless is all. Must be because I took a nap a little while ago.”

“Huh.” Mike said. He still hadn’t moved much at all. He was comfortable where he was, sitting on the bare stone floor. Absolutely still.

Davy walked back into the pad, a huge smile on his face. He hummed as he placed his latest bunch of decorations around the pad. Micky noticed the humming and looked up from his work.

“All right, what’s got you so chipper?” he asked.

“I happen to have a date for tonight,” Davy replied. “With a lovely girl I met on the way to the storage area. She’s beautiful, friendly, graceful…..”

“And a dragon,” Micky pointed out. “You haven’t forgotten that part, right?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Davy huffed. “But if you haven’t noticed lately, we’re dragons too, you know.”

Micky rolled his eyes. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that Davy already found someone to fall in love with. It was part of Davy’s normal routine like, eating or breathing oxygen. Still, even he was impressed with how fast he was able to line up another date.

Micky looked over at Mike, immediately concerned at how still the Texan was.

“Mike?”

Mike tilted his head, a short, controlled motion. He didn’t move beyond that.

“What is it, Mick?”

Micky started to say something, but at the last moment he closed his mouth and shook his head, making sure to smile.

“It’s nothing, babe. Looks like Davy is trying for new records to fall in love. The First Human To Fall In Love With A Dragon.”

The drummer chuckled at his own joke and looked back down at his hands. He had managed to lose his train of thought while constructing this thing too. He was used to getting distracted by things and normally didn’t think anything of it. But now, now it was becoming ridiculous. When he was human, he could at least concentrate enough to set up and conduct an experiment all the way to the end or work on building something for hours. Right now, though, it was as if his thoughts while he worked burned themselves out before he could finish.

Micky frowned and set his latest creation down. He had managed to make a real mess around the crate, but he barely noticed that. He was afraid to go out in case he passed out again, but he also was desperate to get away from everything.

Mike found he was strangely reluctant to move, but he rose anyway and walked over to where Micky was, doing his best to not step on any of the odd components scattered around. He placed his hand gently on Micky’s back.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked.

Micky nearly jumped at the touch. An unsettling idea as he usually was more than fine with Mike touching him. He wanted to tell Mike what was bothering him. He even wanted to go back to sleeping on Mike’s neck. It had been the most comforting moment of this entire thing so far. But Mike had his own problems right now. Micky knew that he was close to freaking out several times. Besides that, Micky never did enjoy dwelling on negative things.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiled. “I just…I guess this stuff isn’t making much sense. Maybe I should ask someone before working on it more. We don’t need to blow holes into the walls of another pad.”

He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he was starting to wonder if he could take off by himself for a while.

Mike nodded. He still wasn’t entirely convinced, but didn’t press any further. Instead he proceeded to neatly sort the clutter around the crate, creating at least a little floor space. He wished Micky would talk about it, give him something to distract himself from his own thoughts. The discovery of the instruments and the pad had helped for a little while, but it was fading, and his worries were resurfacing.

He touched his shoulder absentmindedly, rubbing at the place that Micky had been wrapped around him. Some part of him wished Micky would return there. So he could be sure he was safe. He was so small now…

He sighed.

Davy finished decorating the pad and surveyed his work. There were plenty of shiny, sparkly and brightly-colored objects around the pad now which made it feel a lot more like home to him. The only thing he was missing was a mirror, but he had seen lots of those in the storage area. He figured he could go and find one, use it real quick before he left and then put it toward the front so he could grab it on the way home from his date.

He looked over at the others. Peter seemed to be busy making something out of feathers. Mike was currently tidying up the mechanical parts that Micky had scattered. And Micky….Micky was just hovering in space, looking like he was searching for something to do.

Davy shook his head. Normally, he would encourage Micky to try to find a date of his own so they could double up. It was something they had done plenty of times back home and it tended to be fun. But something about the look in Micky’s eye made him think that the drummer wouldn’t care for the idea.

Instead he went over to Mike and gestured at the Texan to come aside with him. As he did, he flew up so he could mutter in Mike’s ear.

“Hey Mike….what’s going on with Micky?” Mike shook his head.

“I’m not sure. He’s been acting weird ever since we got that crate back here. It’s like he can’t focus on anything anymore. I’ve asked him about it, but he says he’s fine.” The tip of his tail flicked back and forth, the only visible indicator of the worry Mike felt for his friend. Was this a side effect of their transformation? Or was it just stress?

“Right, he’s fine,” Davy scowled. “Just like you’d say you were “fine” if we asked you outright.” Davy was sure he was about to earn another one of Mike’s usual annoyed stares, but he pressed on anyway.

“Look, Micky’s always hopped from one thing to another. We all know that. But not like this. Not like you’re describing. And don’t say you’re not acting weird because you are. Peter’s the only one who hasn’t acted weird since we’ve been here….which is kind of weird, but it still makes sense for him.”

Davy let out a long sigh. Talking to Mike could be like talking to a brick wall. He usually let Micky handle discussions like this, but once in a great while, Davy thought that Micky wasn’t willing to be straight with Mike the way the Texan needed once in awhile.

“Mike, we’re all freaked out by this. That’s part of the reason why I want to spend some time with someone from here. Because maybe…maybe it won’t be so bad once I can get to see it from her perspective. But that’s not going to work for Micky and you know it. He’s as stubborn as you are when it comes to this kind of stuff. And besides, after that passing out thing….you know he’s got more on his plate to think about than the rest of us.”

Davy walked off to the side, making his way toward the exit. “Think about it,” he said as he walked away.


	15. Chapter 15

Mike watched Davy leave. The Englishman was right, he realized. Of course Micky wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t want Mike to worry. Mike shook his head. And what did Davy mean, he was acting weird too? He looked down at his hands. He wasn’t talking about the way he ate was he? Mike was sure Davy had been too distracted by the bugs to notice him. So what did he mean? He looked back over at Micky, before walking over to him.

“Micky…” he said hesitantly, before moving in closer and awkwardly folding his wings around his friend. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t like you.”

Micky gasped, startled by the movement again. He had been planning how to slip out of the pad when Mike suddenly moved closer and put his wings around him. It was such an odd yet comforting gesture. Soon, Micky felt most of his resolve start to slip.

The drummer let out another long sigh. He didn’t like to talk about this stuff. About the things that worried and upset him. But the truth was, he also wasn’t one to keep everything bottled up forever.

“I… Mike, I…..” Micky gulped. “Can I… go back to where I was… you know while… while I was sleeping?”

Mike was slightly taken aback, but nodded.

“I uh, yeah of course, Mick. Go… go right ahead. I-I don’t mind.”

Micky hesitated. It didn’t sound like Mike was all that comfortable with what he asked for. It wasn’t surprising. Mike often wasn’t truly comfortable with affectionate gestures. They might have been touchy with each other but this…this could be taken as a step too far.

The drummer let out a forced chuckle. “Nah, that’s ok, babe. I thought I was sleepy for a second there. But I got a second wind. Don’t worry about it.”

Mike shook his head.

“I.. no, really, Mick. It’s ok. If… if it’ll make m-… make you feel better…” He scratched at the base of a horn awkwardly. “I… I’m fine with it. I promise.”

Micky watched him carefully, astonishment clear on his face. It almost seemed like Mike was encouraging this rather than just humoring him. It felt weird to see Mike actually try to help this sort of thing along.

Then again, maybe this was a side effect of how freaked out Mike was earlier. Micky remembered vividly how Mike clamped his wings to his body and practically whimpered that he wanted to go home. It had hurt Micky to see him like that, and he was relieved when Mike seemed to get better. But maybe the Texan wasn’t as better as Micky thought he was.

Micky nodded and fluttered up to rest on Mike’s neck and shoulders again. At first he tried to only lay lightly on him while still hovering just a tiny bit. But the lure of just resting completely proved to be too strong. It wasn’t long before Micky had wrapped himself around Mike almost as securely as he had while he was asleep.

Mike felt Micky’s coils wrap around him and sighed, releasing tension he didn’t realize he was holding as he breathed out.

“Thank you.” he whispered. Micky’s presence there… it was comforting. It was not unlike the feeling of crawling under a heavy blanket crossed with a really good hug. And he could still breathe easily, despite Micky’s hold on him.

He reached up and ran his fingers along a section of Micky’s coils.

“Now… are you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on with you?”

Micky smiled widely when he heard Mike thank him. It was unexpected and made him happy. It was a giddy sort of happy and yet it was tempered with an overall feeling of contentment. He continued to smile as he positioned himself around Mike.

For a second, he was worried that he was clinging too tightly. But Mike stroking his coils was enough to let him know that the Texan didn’t feel constrained. Once he was completely settled, he pressed his face against Mike briefly, giggling a little at how blissful this felt.

He let out another sigh though when Mike asked his question. He actually felt so much better like this that he didn’t see a great need to answer. But Mike was already being so affectionate with him, so it felt mean to not say anything.

“I…I want to go back to Zelioth and see if he can make me human again.”

Mike looked down at Micky in surprise.

“You think he can do that?” If he could… that would change things considerably. Being human again… Was it possible?

“I dunno,” Micky said with a slight shrug. “But it’s worth a try, right?”

The drummer turned his face so he could press it lightly against Mike again while closing his eyes.

“I just….I can’t stay like this. It’s not fair to you guys. And I….I’m scared. Of being this kind of dragon.”

“Aw… Mick…” Mike said with dismay. “Is there something in particular that’s botherin’ you? Or is it just..” Mike paused, remembering the way he had torn into his food earlier, “just not knowing how much of what you’re feeling is really you?” he said quietly. “Like your body is changing who you are…”

Micky frowned. He wasn’t sure how to explain what he felt, which was odd in some ways considering how he wasn’t really uncomfortable with expressing emotion. He didn’t see a point in hiding how he felt. However, he didn’t enjoy focusing on his own insecurities by talking about them or through the feelings he showed to others.

“Um both... sort of.” Micky sighed again. “I mean, look at me, Mike, I’m a snake. A snake with horns. A _small_ snake with horns. I’m skinny and... look how small I am compared to you. Or Pete or even Davy. Heck, most of the dragons here are bigger. And then that thing where I passed out earlier….I had no idea that was coming. I felt kinda weird, but not like I was gonna... you know...”

Micky shifted his position. He was glad that he could talk to Mike from where he was. Not only did it make him feel a little more secure; it also made it so the Texan couldn’t see his face.

“If you hadn’t caught me...that would have been it. And the dragons...well, ok, these ones are friendly, but are they all going to be that way? What if we meet ones who aren’t nice? What if I pass out when that happens? Or while we’re trying to get away? I...”

The drummer paused. He wouldn’t exactly peg himself as a coward, but the fact remained that he didn’t really like violence or getting hurt. Thus, he would do whatever he could to avoid any of it. That might have been the essence of a coward, but he still wasn’t eager to label himself that way.

But the more he thought about what was bothering him, the harder it got to avoid thinking of himself that way.

“I...I’m so helpless, Mike. I’m small. I can barely fly. I could zonk out at any moment. How am I going to be able to take care of myself here?”

Mike looked down at the ground. He couldn’t answer that. He didn’t know. He had been fortunate, getting a larger body, and a bipedal one at that. He was the only fully bipedal dragon in the Clan from what he’d seen.

But Micky…

He wasn’t the smallest dragon around, but he was still pretty small compared to some of the other breeds. And the dragons of Micky’s breed he’d seen around rarely walked, instead zipping about at high speeds and nimbly weaving through branches and around other dragons. He supposed that helped them compensate for their size, their agility allowing them to get out of the way of the larger breeds.

But they were born dragons. Micky wasn’t. He could fly, but he lacked the practice needed to achieve the graceful looping flight Mike saw the other dragons do.

“Mick…” he stroked Micky’s coils gently, feeling the smooth interlocking scales that covered his friend’s body.

“I… I don’t know. But you know you’re not alone. Me‘n Davy‘n Peter… We’ll look out for you. I mean… I’m sure you’ll get better at flying with practice. You’ve only been a dragon for a few hours, babe. You didn’t learn to drum in just one day, so why should you expect to know how t’ fly well after only a few hours? Everything takes practice.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Micky shrugged. “I actually kinda dig the flying. I’m not that good at it, but I like it. I’ll probably get better because it looks like I’ll have to do it most of the time. So I’ll be practicing whether I want to or not.”

Micky chuckled weakly and slid up Mike’s neck a little bit. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share the other part of what was bothering him. But he did want to make sure that Mike was ok, and he knew that the Texan would be far more likely to be more open with him if he was willing to talk about himself first.

“And uh, yeah, I guess I feel different too. It’s like…it’s like my mind is going a hundred miles an hour, ya know? It’s sorta cool because it I get ideas, flashes, of things, I never had before and it’s like I can figure stuff out even faster. Like all those parts in the crate. It was as if I could see them as puzzle pieces and just know how they probably fit together. So yeah, that’s groovy, but…..”

Micky paused. On the surface, what was bothering him seemed trivial. Maybe it was. But he hoped he could get his point across to Mike.

“I can’t concentrate. Or I can’t for very long. I’ll look over at something and in that short amount of time, I lose track of where I was going with a thing I was working on. And then I see other stuff and I can’t help but want to do something else. What’s it gonna be like trying to play music this way? If I can’t keep focused on practice?”

Mike frowned. So it wasn’t just his imagination. There _was_ something more to it than Micky’s normal impulsiveness.

“I don’t know Mick.” he said quietly. “But it’s not just you that… that feels like somethin’ different s’goin’ on in your head.”

Micky cocked his head to the side in curiosity. Other than that moment where he ate so robustly at the table and his strange stillness; Micky hadn’t noticed many oddities in Mike’s behavior. The food thing he had chalked up to Mike just being really hungry and maybe his kind of dragon eating that way. As for the stillness, maybe it was tiring for Mike to move around a lot while he was so big.

But now that he thought about again that stuff; Micky realized that it was kind of dumb to not see that there might have been something going on there. He was already concerned about Mike and this just amplified that concern.

Besides that, he was eager to get off the subject of his own fears.

“What do you mean, Mike? What’s going on with you?”

Mike fidgeted.

“I-I… Y’know when we were eating? Th-the meat Felara served me?”

Micky moved up toward Mike face so he could watch the Texan’s expressions.

“Yeah? What about it? Was…was there something wrong with the food?”

“No. Nothing was wrong with the food.” He shook his head. “It.. it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. And… and when I ate it…” he shuddered. “It was like… like something else took over.” he whispered. “I tasted it… and next thing I know it’s gone and and I’m no longer hungry.”

“Something?” Micky replied, confused. “Something like what? Like another personality? Or was it like you blacked out? Or…..”

“I-I don’t know Mick!” Mike cried, voice cracking in fear. “I… I couldn’t stop myself! And.. and then… when when you passed out… I-I…. I thought they had done somethin’ to you… and and… I…” he broke off, trying to breathe deeply.

“I wanted to hurt them Mick.” his voice shook with fear.

“I wanted to see them _bleed_.”


	16. Chapter 16

Micky blinked hard. He knew that Mike was not as much of a pure hippie as say, Peter was. Still, he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of Mike being violent.

“But you wouldn’t do that,” he blurted out. That was something he was still confident of, despite what Mike had just told him. Maybe whatever Mike was now was feeding off the darker side of his personality, but Micky refused to believe he’d act on it.

Mike drew his wings around himself.

“I… I don’t… I don’t know.” he whimpered. “I don’t think I would… but… but if you hadn’t started snoring… and if Davy and Pete hadn’t been there… I… it was so strong…. I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Mike….” Micky swallowed hard. A part of him had always liked how protective Mike was of him. But it didn’t feel so good when that side made Mike scared of himself.

“Mike, maybe you were stressed out and scared, but I’m sure you would have stopped yourself from doing anything really bad. Anything beyond maybe punching a hole in the wall or stuff like that.”

Mike rubbed at Micky’s coils in a reassuring gesture, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to reassure. He nodded.

“I… yeah. You’re probably right.” He sighed, staring off into space. He went still again, the only motion the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Sure,” Micky said, content over how Mike was touching him. “I don’t think we’re totally different now. It’s just…it’s like who we are has been jiggled around a bit and stuff that wasn’t as big a thing is now a lot stronger in our personalities. So it’s still us….it’s just a little different is all…..”

Micky paused, waiting for Mike to respond. He didn’t like how still Mike was getting again.

“Babe?”

“Yeah Mick?” Mike asked without turning his head as he thought about what Micky had said. Still them… just a bit different… he wasn’t sure what to think about that. He liked who he was. He didn’t want to be different. Even if it was ‘just a little’.

“Oh, it’s ok, Mike. You were just….I was just wondering busy thinking about something is all.”

Micky went back to resting up against Mike from behind. He was pretty sure it wasn’t settled that easily for Mike, but Micky didn’t think it would be a good idea to push him on it right now.

Right now, he just wished he could stay like this, wrapped around Mike, until they all woke up and things were back to normal.

* * *

Peter worked on his project, seemingly oblivious to Mike and Micky’s conversation as he chewed on bamboo stalks to shape them to just the right length.

He wasn’t though. He heard the whole thing. He didn’t know what to do about it though, so he filed it away for future reference and continued working. He didn’t feel any different than usual. He was Peter.

True, he could manipulate wind now… but that didn’t change who he was. It was just an added detail.

Still. The others seemed to be still pretty freaked out, and while Peter personally didn’t see a need to be scared about the changes, he knew that they didn’t always see things the way he did.

He hung up his project, a set of bamboo windchimes adorned with feathers. Each chime was perfectly tuned. He blew a wind over them and smiled at the pure tones they produced. Maybe this would help them feel better.

* * *

Mike picked up a rock and examined it, looking over the different minerals present.

“Micky… Promise you’ll tell me. If… If I’m doing something weird… if y’see me not actin’ like myself. Please tell me.” His voice broke and he clenched his fist, crushing the rock he was holding.

“Please.”

* * *

Davy soon found out that there was no shortage of mirrors to choose from.

There were mirrors of all sorts of heights, widths and shapes along with having all kinds of frames around them. Eventually, he settled with a large, circular mirror with a golden braided frame. He propped it against the wall and took a long look at himself.

It still felt strange seeing himself as a dragon. A part of him had initially thought that he would be able to see something resembling human features if he looked at his own face hard enough. But there was nothing.

And yet….Davy found that he did not have a hard time connecting the image in the glass with himself. It was still weird. And he still wanted to go home. But he also thought that he made a handsome dragon. And if he was going to be a dragon for a while, he might as well get as much as he could out of it.

Davy gave his reflection another nod and then started looking himself over to make sure he’d be ready for his date.

* * *

Back at the pad, Micky frowned and felt his heart sink as he watched Mike crush a rock while begging the drummer to keep an eye on his behavior. Truthfully, Mike doing that was somewhat outside his normal behavior, but Micky decided that there had to be some leeway in those directions.

“Ok babe, I promise.”

Mike looked down at the fragments of stone in his hand. It had crumbled like a dry cracker in his fist.

“How is this even possible?” he whispered, letting the stone dust trickle through his fingers. Being able to pick up heavy things was one thing. But to crush a rock in his bare hand…

“What am I?”

Micky wasn’t sure how to answer that. All he could think of were the really obvious answers even though he knew that he couldn’t solely rely on simple logic here.

“Um, Mike….you’re a really big dragon. So, uh, it kind of makes sense that you’d be really strong too…..doesn’t it? Being strong isn’t bad….unless you plan on crushing people like that rock. Which I know you wouldn’t do.”

“But… I’m still _flesh_.” Mike says softly. He pokes at the soft meat of his palm, which yields to his touch, the way it always did. “That was a rock. And I barely noticed it. Like… like a piece of stale bread.”

“Well…yeah. But you’d need tough skin if you’re going to be so big and have all that muscle, right? I mean, imagine if an elephant didn’t have tough skin. It just makes sense.”

Micky slithered from behind Mike’s neck and craned his head around so he could look Mike in the eye.

“Mike….are you afraid of being strong? I mean, physically strong.”

“Micky…” Mike’s voice trembled. “It’s like… it’s like I’m too strong. I carried those crates… and I don’t feel worn out. I… I could have carried those crates all day. I mean… It took some effort to pick them up, but once I was carrying them…” he shrugged.

“I… I guess I am scared. I don’t want to hurt you guys.”

“I don’t know why you would,” Micky replied. “I don’t see any of us getting into a fight with you any time soon. Besides, I think the rest of us can just…fly off if you were getting too testy. You might be big, but we might be able to fly faster than you. So…..”

Micky shrugged. He knew that the Texan had a temper of sorts, but he hadn’t ever known Mike to get physical with anyone.

Unless…

“Why? Do you….do you think you’d want to pick a fight with us?”

“No… but accidents happen, y’know?” How could he explain the terror he felt thinking of that rage he had felt towards Zelioth, the desire to… to rip him open with the claws on his feet in revenge for hurting Micky. Micky didn’t know how close Mike came to losing control there. And Mike was not going to tell him.

He wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the floor, idly noting the grain in the stone tiles. He grew still again, and his breathing slowed.

Micky frowned. He wasn’t sure how someone could do something like tear someone’s head off by accident, but he didn’t comment on this out loud. To some extent, he understood the desire to act out physically when angry. As a kid, it wasn’t unusual for him to break or throw stuff when he was mad about something. Still, that almost never translated into hurting people…..unless they were unfortunate enough to be in the line of fire when he threw something. Maybe that was what Mike was talking about, but he doubted it.

He slithered around again, so he could look at Mike with his head upside down. It was a silly perspective, but that was what Micky needed for conversations like this.

“Mike….I don’t think you’ll hurt any of us. Or anyone else around here. Maybe you can get really mad and think about doing stuff. But thinking and doing are two different things, ya know.” The drummer moved a little closer to Mike’s face.

“You don’t have to be afraid of thoughts like that when you’re angry.”

Mike nodded slightly, a slight smile crossing his features briefly as he saw Micky’s position. He _would_ turn himself upside down.

“You’re probably right. I-” He is interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Mike is suddenly on his feet, one arm raised to guard Micky as he stalks towards the door. Peter gets there first and opens it to reveal another dragon. They were the same sort as Felara, only this one was much bigger and resembled a tree stump more than a rock. Vivid emerald eyes twinkled at them from folds of coarse hide that resembled bark.


	17. Chapter 17

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22122050)

“Hullo hullo!” the newcomer boomed. “My name’s Pogue Mahone. May I come in?” Mike stares at him in open hostility for a few moments before remembering. Zelioth had said someone would be along to check up on them.

“Oh, uh… sure. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” He relaxed his aggressive posture.

“Oh hi…Pogue, was it?,” Micky said, sliding off Mike so he could hover next to the Texan. “I’m Micky and this is Mike and over there is Peter and Davy….oh, right, Davy’s not here. He’s getting ready for a date. He’ll be by later. Uh, how are you?”

The drummer tilted his head to the side as he looked at this newcomer. It seemed like all the dragons of this type looked like parts of nature, something Micky found intriguing.

“I’m just fine! Zelioth mentioned you’d moved in here, so I thought I’d come by, drop off a little housewarming present, and make sure everything’s healthy and in good repair.”

“Healthy? What do you mean healthy?” Mike asked in bewilderment.

“The trees! No one’s stayed here for some time so it hasn’t been maintained. So I’ll check to make sure none of the branches are rotting or dying. After all, you don’t want a branch supporting the roof to give way in the midst of a thunderstorm! But before I do that…” Pogue sat back on his haunches and unclipped a basket from a loop around his kilt. He set it on the table.

“Some snacks!” he grinned.

Micky chuckled nervously. He hadn’t thought that their pad could have structural issues. Granted, it was feasible that they could have existed at their pad on Earth. Especially given how slipshod Babbitt was about maintenance. But he didn’t dwell on it for long. All houses needed some upkeep. And it was being taken care of now, so that was fine.

“Snacks? Hey, thanks,” he grinned as he moved to look inside the basket.

Pogue grinned as the Spiral went to investigate the snacks, before moving over to the wall and placing one tree-trunk forelimb on the wall. His eyes radiated an emerald glow. As Mike watched, the trees shifted visibly, the trunks fitting together seamlessly and growing to fill in the gaps, particularly towards the upper parts, where the branches grew together into a tight canopy covered in broad leaves.

“How are you doing that?” Mike asked, curious in spite of himself. This was the first real demonstration of magic he’d seen since he’d arrived.

“It’s an ancient Nature magic, passed down through the generations. It lets me see the life in the trees, correct their growth, see where they are weak through damage or disease… Ah. That should do ya!” Pogue removed his foot from the wall and nodded at them.

“Wait a minute….are those….chips? Made of bugs?” Micky said after a quick look in the basket.

His attention was soon diverted though when he caught a glimpse of the magic Pogue was using. He zipped away from the basket to get a closer look as Pogue worked.

“Hey, um, do you think we could learn to do stuff like that?” he asked. “You know, in case we need to fix up things around here.”

“Well I can’t teach you this magic specifically… but you ought to be able to learn some wards and whatnot that could hold it in place ‘til someone from Nature can take a look at it. Not that you’d need to anytime soon. She’s sound as a pound!” He stomped his foot in emphasis, and a branch fell from the ceiling. He caught it with a stunned expression, then laughed. “This branch was dying already. I knew that would happen don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you now.” Mike said levelly, folding his arms over his chest.

“Of course I do! Plaguebringer take me if I lie. And don’t worry, there’s no fee or anything. The expressions on your faces there was payment enough.”

Mike continued to scowl.

“Huh, so then, we can learn some kind of magic then?” Micky asked, his voice more than a little hopeful. If he could learn magic; it might help make up for his small size. Besides that, it could even cooler than being able to fly.

He noticed Mike’s scowl and looked up at the ceiling and then at the walls. Everything else seemed sound. Even with the rotted branch, Micky suspected that it was sturdier than the pad back on Earth. And it hadn’t collapsed and fallen into the ocean yet.

Satisfied that it was ok, Micky went back to the basket to get another look at those snacks.

“Of course you can learn magic. You’re dragons aren’t you? Anyway I’ve gotta be going. See you guys around!”

“Ok, thanks for everything,” Micky said, waving his tail and hand at him as he left. He peered down again into the bag of bug chips and fished out a couple, taking a huge sniff.

“Hmmm, smells spicy,” he muttered. He tossed both chips into his mouth and crunched them loudly.

“Hey Mike, looks like they’ve got something in here for you too. It’s some kind of lizard shaped snack.”

Mike walks over to investigate the snacks. He was feeling hungry again, which rather surprised him, considering the size of the meat he’d had for lunch? breakfast? Man it’d been a long day.

“Lizard shaped snacks?” he asked quietly as he reached into the basket. He pulled one out, sniffed it, ate it. He made a face. It tasted good, but that wasn’t what the face was for.

“That… that’s not lizard shaped. That was an _actual lizard_ , Mick.” He didn’t feel like he was going to lose control though… that was good. He fished out another lizard.

Peter came over and poked his nose in, before recoiling at the odor of dead meat. He reached in and pulled out a packet of dried fruit before retreating.

“It is?” Micky said, in between crunches. “I guess that’s why it looked so real.” He chuckled and dug around in the basket after Peter pulled out the fruit.

“Hey looks like there’s another bag of bug chips in here. Let’s try these.” The drummer popped one into his mouth. “Mmm, good. Kind of a ranch flavor. Davy should really try ‘em.”

Mike chewed on his lizards, noticing as he did so that the light was beginning to fade. Wait… did they have artificial light here? He hadn’t seen any sort of lamps or fixtures… hadn’t seen any sort of electrical appliances at all now that he thought about it. Nor had he seen any sort of gas lamps, or candles. But there had to be interior light, right?

As he thought about it, he noticed a symbol start to glow on the wall in approximately the same place as the light switch at home. Four short lines that were reminiscent of sunbeams radiating from the clouds. He crossed the room and cautiously poked at it. The room brightened.

“Well that answers that question.” he muttered.

Micky crunched at a few more ranch-flavored bugs before going back to the spicier ones. The light fade was actually relaxing for his eyes and he started to enjoy it until the glow began within the pad. That made him wince and squint.

“Hey Mike, do I have to save any of these for Davy? I doubt he’s going to want them.”

Mike ate another lizard as he considered Micky’s question.

“Considering how he’s out on a date right now… yea. I don’t think he’s gonna want any either.” He noticed Micky squinting. “Somethin’ wrong Mick?”

“It’s nothing,” Micky said, continuing to squint. “It’s just the light is bugging my eyes.”

Micky tossed several bug chips in the air, making a game of snapping each one up before it could land on the floor. Before the light started to bother him, he hadn’t noticed how much easier it was for him to see now. His nearsightedness was gone. And it seemed as if he could even see better in the dark.

“You think Davy is going to hit it off with that dragon chick?” he said, quickly snapping up three more bug chips.

“Oh, sorry about that Mick.” Mike said apologetically. Micky was more light sensitive now. Interesting. He walked back to the symbol on the wall and poked at it again. The light dimmed to a much lower level. He blinked a few times, and found that he could still see fairly well.

“That better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he nodded. He continued to eat bug chips, chomping on them thoughtfully.

“Hey Mike, how were those lizards?”

“They’re pretty good.” Mike replied as he moved to stand next to Micky.

Micky grinned and threw another four bug chips into the air. He was pleased at how fast he was getting at snapping them up, even when they went in different directions.

“It was nice of them to give us snacks,” he yawned. “They seem like a friendly bunch….of dragons.”

Micky yawned again. By now he was full and he was already thinking about another nap. He just needed to decide where he’d go to sleep this time.

Mike looked at the camera with a resigned expression as he saw Micky yawn and look about for someplace to sleep.

“You forgot to figure out where you’re gonna sleep tonight didn’t you.” Mike said with a very slight trace of amusement in his tone. “Oh Micky…” In all honesty, Mike hadn’t given Micky’s sleeping accommodations much thought either. Where does a large winged snake sleep? Hopefully not around his friend’s neck, at least not on a regular basis. Mike was ok with that happening once in awhile, but he wasn’t sure if he was willing to be Micky’s _permanent_ bed.

That would be weird.

Of course his definition of ‘weird’ had recently undergone a radical reevaluation… but he had to draw the line somewhere. Plus he didn’t want to accidentally squash him when he went to bed himself. Not that he was actually tired yet, he realized with some surprise. With all that had happened today he would’ve expected to be bone weary by now, ready to collapse into bed, or well, a pile of furs, and be out like a light.

Instead he was still as alert and awake as he was six hours ago. He shrugged. It was still fairly early in the night.

Now where to put Micky…?

Micky yawned again. He figured he could just curl up on a pile of furs, but for some reason that didn’t seem comfortable. Plus, being so small, he was antsy about lying around on the floor where he could be stepped on. He had felt really relaxed and comfortable around Mike’s neck. Not only was he off the ground, but he was warm. Still, Micky imagined that Mike might not appreciate having a living scarf around him while he was trying to sleep as well.

The drummer gathered up what was left of the snacks into the basket and set it aside. He noticed that Mike seemed to be busy looking for a place for them to sleep too, so Micky decided slip away and explore more of the pad. He found an alcove which had a small crack in the wall with a hole in the center.

Micky cocked his head. It was small, but then again so was he now. And it would be a secure place to sleep. The drummer moved closer and peered inside.

_‘I wonder if I could burrow in there….’_


	18. Chapter 18

Davy made his way back to the area where he had left Felara. He poked his head inside and looked around for her.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

“Hmm?” Felara asked, coming out of the shadows at the back of the kitchen, “Oh hello there! Davy, was it? How can I help you?”

“Hello Felara,” Davy said with his most charming smile. “I was wondering if could ask a favor of you? You see, I met someone and was planning on taking them out for a picnic. So I was hoping you could help me pick out something for us to eat.”

Felara nodded with understanding.

“Ah, I see. And does this ‘someone’ have a name?”

“Her name is Mnissath,” Davy said dreamily. “A vision of loveliness. We plan on sharing dinner and watching the stars come out. So I would like to bring her something extra she might like along with a meal for myself. I promise, I will find a way to repay you.”

“Mnissath, eh? I know ‘em. Good lad. Excellent dancer. I know just the thing!” She disappeared into the back, and returned a short time later with a bucket of mussels. “Here you go. He loves these. And as for you…” she rummaged around. “Ah-ha!” She handed him a plate of vegetables and a sack of nuts and seeds. “Since you won’t eat your insects… this’ll do ya instead. Plus, the seeds’ll give your feathers a healthy shine.” She winked at him.

Davy was only half-listening when Felara started talking about Mnissath. Although, he did pick up on the “excellent dancer” bit and immediately began to fantasize about romantic waltzes under the moonlight.

When Felara brought out the food, he grinned. This looked even better than what he had been served earlier. Not to mention how kind it was of her to omit the bugs from his meal.

“Thank you so much, Felara. If there is anything I can do. Anything at all…..”

“Hmm… I don’t have anything for you now, but come back tomorrow and I’m sure I’ll have something for you to do.”

“All right, I will be sure to be here,” Davy said. “Thank you again.”

Davy grabbed the food and whistled a tune as he headed out to where he was supposed to meet Mnissath.

* * *

Mnissath was already waiting at the meeting point, feathers all neatly groomed, basket of fish on his shoulder.

Davy caught sight of Mnissath and smiled. She looked even lovelier as the sun began to set. He spotted the basket on her shoulder and was eager to let her know about the surprise he brought her.

Mnissath saw the Skydancer approach.

“Ah! David! You’re right on time. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Hello Nissa,” Davy smiled at her. “I have a surprise for you.” He showed her the bucket of mussels that Felara had given him. “I hope you’ll enjoy them with your meal.”

Mnissath’s forked tongue flicked over the bucket of mussels excitedly.

“ _Oh you sure know how to treat a guy right!_ ” he hummed in Coatl, forgetting himself for a moment. He switched back to ~~English~~ Draconic.

“Oh these are my favorites! And the shells make wonderful decorations too! And I know just the place where we can eat. Come on!” Mnissath fluttered into the air, leading Davy towards the reservoir.

Davy couldn’t understand what she said, but she was clearly happy with what he had brought her. He reminded himself to thank Felara again for the mussels. The two of them flew through the air for a while with Davy smiling as he realized that he was definitely getting the hang of flight.

“You remind me of someone I knew on…back home,” he said as he flew down next to her. “She liked to make things with shells she’d find on the beach. It was like she had put a bit of the ocean in her house.”

Mnissath pricked his feather crest curiously.

“You lived near the Sea?” he asked. “Ah here we are.” He swooped down to land on an outcropping of rock next to a creek that bubbled cheerfully as it flowed into the reservoir below. There was a gap in the tree cover here and they could see the sunset painting the sky in fiery hues.

“Quite the view isn’t it, David? I love coming here.”

“Yes I did. Me and my friends,” Davy replied. “My home country was an island, so I guess you could say that I spent most of my life near the sea.”

Davy followed Mnissath down to the opening in the trees. He agreed with her that this was a beautiful spot with a clear, panoramic view of the sunset. The sunset reminded him of the sunsets on Earth which was oddly comforting to him right now.

“Do you come here often?” he asked her.

Mnissath nodded.

“I love coming here. It’s quiet and peaceful, and I always love going for a swim. I was born in the Sea, and while I love living here, I do miss it sometimes.” He set down his basket and slipped out of his dress. There was a mossy slope nearby, and he slid down it and into the water on his belly. He popped up next to Davy, the water rolling off his feathers. He floated, relaxed, tail stirring the water into lazy currents, before rolling onto his back and retrieving his meal.

“Shall we eat?”

Davy nodded as Mnissath told him about her background. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that some dragons lived in the sea. There were enough legends about it on Earth.

He was surprised, however, when she took off her dress to go swimming and eating in the water. Then again, he hadn’t really been wearing anything so he shrugged it off quickly.

“Sure,” he said. He grabbed his meal and started to head for the water. However, something inside him made him hesitate.

“You’re a great swimmer,” he commented, deciding to remain where he was for now.

Mnissath laughed.

“I sure hope so! I wouldn’t be much of a Water dragon if I couldn’t swim!” He nibbled on his trout, the plate balanced on his sandy belly. “I’m sorry, I just love to float here,” he added. “I forgot that you don’t have a water resistant coat.” He finished his trout and set the plate back in the basket. “Looks like it’s going to be clear tonight. Perfect for two guys watching the stars.”

“It could be,” Davy nodded, disinterested in the idea. “But it’s even more perfect for a guy and girl spending time together.”

Davy moved closer to the water again. Mnissath had mentioned that she had a water resistant coat that he didn’t have. It seemed like an acceptable reason to stay out of the water. So instead he pulled out his meal and started to eat.

“Hey, Mnissath, you said that you’re not from here, right? How long have you lived here? And do you like it? I mean, does it seem like a good place to live?”

Mnissath shrugged.

“It’s a pretty relaxed place here. Pretty peaceful for the most part. Self sufficient. We do do some trade with the local Beastclans but otherwise we’re pretty isolated. You four are the first visitors we’ve had in awhile.” He cracked open a mussel on his belly and ate it.

“But yea. It’s a pretty good place to live. The most we have to worry about is when something from the deep jungle wanders into the Clan’s territory. Then Blutigenacht, Ember, or Drakorsa has to chase it off before it gets too close. It’s been a few months since that happened last so don’t worry.” He slips out of the water and onto the bank next to Davy. The water rolled off his feathers as he curled himself around Davy.

“Now what’d you mean by it being even more perfect for a guy and a girl here? Ain’t I enough for you? You’re not gonna bring a girl up here are you?”

Davy laid back on the ground, folding one of his wings around Mnissath.

“No, of course not,” Davy smiled at her. “I’m not bringing any other girls up here. There’s just you Nissa.” He closed his eyes and leaned back some more.

“And I’m glad. That this is a nice place and all. Me and my friends might be here for a while, so I was hoping it’d be ok.”

Davy fell quiet and slowly opened his eyes back up to look at the sky. As he did, he thought again about what Mnissath had said to him and suddenly had an epiphany.

“W-wait a minute…aren’t….aren’t you a girl?”


	19. Chapter 19

Mike saw a shelf that would probably work as a place for Micky to sleep. It was off the ground, out of the way, about the right size if he curled up. Pile a few blankets or furs in there… it would be nice and cozy.

“Hey Mick. Think this would work?” There’s no response. Mike turns, and discovers that Micky has disappeared from the table.

“Mick??” he he called out, slightly alarmed. Where did he get to? He cast about… and stopped.

“Micky… what the hell.”

While Mike had been looking for a _sensible_ place for Micky to sleep, Micky had taken it into his head that the _absolute best thing_ for him to do was to shove himself into a crack in the wall. All that Mike could see of him was the very end of his tail, which twitched occasionally.

“That… what the _fuck_. Micky!!!” He flailed his arms about, unable to verbalize the emotions he was feeling. Peter looked at him reproachfully. He had just come back inside from where he had been chilling out back, and had caught Mike’s swearing. He trotted over to see what Mike was getting worked up about. Oh. Hmm.

“How… how is that even _comfortable_?” Mike sputtered. He was tempted to try to pull him out but he didn’t want to hurt him in the attempt. He fidgeted. Peter bumped into him.

“Don’t worry Mike. He’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that??” Mike squeaked, voice cracking. “He might not be able to get out! What if he suffocates???”

“He won’t. There’s plenty of air.” Peter said, with a curious confidence. “Really, He’ll be ok. You’ll be ok.” He patted Mike, and yawned. “It’ll all work out in the end. You just gotta relax and let the wind take you. Goodnight Michael.” And with that cryptic remark, he wandered off to his room.

* * *

Micky heard none of this and was instead sleeping peacefully.

It hadn’t been easy to figure how he should go about burrowing inside at first, but once he got going, it became almost effortless. Once he was all the way in; he stayed still for several moments, trying to see if it would be possible to fall asleep like this. Granted, he hadn’t minded small places as a child, but this was small to the extreme.

Soon, he was surprised to discover that it was actually very relaxing. Like being enveloped in a stiff, but secure blanket. Here, he was free from any worries of being vulnerable while he slept and he could shut out the rest of the world for a while.

It didn’t take long after he realized all of this that he fell fast asleep, snoring loudly.

* * *

Mike knew that there was no way he was going to be able to sleep without knowing if Micky could get out of the hole on his own. He leaned against the wall, pressing his head against it in exasperation and worry. He took a couple of deep breaths. He found himself imagining the shape of the crack Micky was sleeping in. It extended into the wall well past Micky’s length, and while it wasn’t very wide, it was wide enough for Micky’s serpent body. And it did extend all the way through the stone…

It was kind of weird. He wasn’t given to flights of fancy, and yet his mind insisted on spinning out a vision of a vast network of cracks and fissures spiderwebbing through the surrounding stone. The space Micky was in… it twisted and turned, and came out near the ceiling. He pulled his head away from the wall and shook his head. The vision faded.

It was ridiculous… and yet Mike couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that what he saw was true.

* * *

Meanwhile, Micky continued to dream.

This time, his dreams were centered on his home. His childhood home. He dreamed about his mom making huge dinners for all of them. He dreamed of playing outside with the dog or one of the stray cats that often hung around. His dreams were filled with memories of each of his sisters and the games they played together. He remembered his father, sitting in the front room, reading his nightly paper. These days, Micky often dreaded dreaming about him because it seemed like those dreams always ended painfully with reminders of when his father died. This time, however, his dreams remained pleasant. A dozen happy summers unfolded within his mind while he slumbered.

Micky shifted only slightly within the wall, still deeply asleep.

Mike tidied up around the pad in an effort to distract himself. It worked for a little bit, but soon he ran out of things to do. And he still wasn’t sleepy.

Eventually, after pacing around the pad for a while, he sat down next to Micky’s sleeping spot and simply watched the drummer’s tail twitch back and forth.


	20. Chapter 20

Mnissath blinked, confused.

“No… I’m not a girl.”

“What?! You’re a guy?!” Davy said, bolting upright and pulling his wing back. “A bloke like me? Wait…you don’t think I’m a girl, do you?”

“No, I knew you were a guy.” Mnissath said. He was still fairly confused by Davy’s reaction. Sure, Coatls didn’t have much in the way of clear gender differences, but there were still subtle indications that would make it clear.

“You really didn’t know I was a guy?”

“No! Of course not,” Davy spluttered. “You’re wearing a dress. And you look so…. And you said I thought I was a guy so why did you…..?”

Davy rubbed his hands all over his face. This date was quickly turning into a disaster, but in a rare moment of level-headedness, Davy realized that he did not want to create a situation with someone who could be a friend.

“Look, I….I don’t have any issue if you’re….if you’re….you know. That’s perfectly fine by me. But I’m not that way. I like birds and birds only. You dig?”

“What does me wearing a dress have to do with anything?” Mnissath asked, genuinely puzzled. This guy was a strange one.

“And hey. If you don’t wanna go out it’s fine. But I really don’t see how my being a guy makes any difference if you were willing to go out with me when you thought I was a girl.”

“Unless you were hoping for a nest?”

“Wh-what do you mean ‘nest’?” Davy stuttered. “You mean, like kids? No way, I’m not looking for that. And, and blokes don’t wear dresses. And they don’t look like you. At least, they don’t where I come from. That’s…..”

Davy let out a huge sigh. He was frustrated that his attempt to do something normal for him had turned out this way and wondered if dating would always be so much harder here.

“I was willing to go out with you when you were a girl because I like girls and I thought…well, I thought you were pretty and you seemed like someone nice,” he explained. “It’s just….I’m not from here and where I’m from, it _does_ make a difference. So….”

Davy hung his head. The moon shone in the water, casting a faint glow up to the shore.

“I know I said I don’t want to go out with you, but….I don’t want to go home right now either. So…I was wondering…if I could just sit here and we could talk or something.”

Mnissath shrugged.

“Sure, if you want. Anything in particular you wanna ask?”

“I…I don’t know really,” Davy answered. “ I don’t know if you can answer the one thing I really want to know.”

Davy leaned back and looked at the sky again. Yellow and white stars studded a midnight blue.

“How does one go about being a dragon?”


	21. Chapter 21

Eventually, Micky’s sleep became more restless.

He started to dream about the things he had been working on this afternoon. He could visualize every step he had taken to put each item together. Only now, it was as if he could see a whole row of carbon copies of himself working on every single one of his projects.

Only, in his dreams, the copies were all his human form.

* * *

Mike sat, stared off into space, and tried to process what had happened today. Had he really leaped off that walkway from that high up? And then when he’d caught Micky he’d jumped straight up… He hadn’t used his wings. Hmm…

There was no staircase to the second floor landing… but then… he didn’t need it now, did he. None of them did. He rose from his position on the floor… took a few steps forward… and launched himself into the air. He made it to the second floor easily, without having to flap his wings.

He did have to duck his head to get into the room, but the ceiling was high enough that he could straighten up. There was another faintly glowing symbol on the wall, but he could see well enough without having to turn the lights on. Even if he wasn’t feeling particularly tired, he felt he ought to at least get some sleep.

There was no bed… Ahh right. The furs were still out on the landing. Once he’d retrieved them he laid them out on the floor. The effect was… underwhelming. _Peter_ looked more comfortable than this did, he thought wryly. Still… something about this room gave him a feeling of security… even if he was less tired than ever.

* * *

Slowly, Micky blinked and started to wake back up again. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but he felt far more rested than before. Once he had opened his eyes completely, he was momentarily disoriented as to where he was, but soon remembered that he had burrowed into a wall.

_‘Oh right…now… how do I get out?’_

Micky wiggled a little as he tried to figure out how to get his body to move the way it needed to in order to extract himself from the wall. Eventually deciding that one concentrated effort was better than inching his way out, Micky slid backwards, his body undulating outward from the zigzag crevice of the wall.

Once he was free, he looked around and realized he was alone. He guessed that they were all asleep so he decided to not disturb them.

_‘Hm…where did I leave that pile of machine parts?’_

* * *

Mike couldn’t sleep.

He wanted to sleep. Needed to sleep, to soothe his troubled mind.

But no matter how he arranged himself in the pile of furs and hides he could not relax into slumber.

Was it the quiet? The lack of Micky snoring in the background? The fact that he wasn’t in a proper bed? He’d slept in worse places before. True, that’d been as a human, but it couldn’t be that different, could it?

He rose. If he wasn’t sleepy after staring at the ceiling for an hour, he probably wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Maybe he could go for a walk. That might help.

He hopped down and headed for the door.

In the other room, Peter slept soundly.

* * *

Micky turned his head. He thought he had heard something hit the floor, but when he went to investigate, he didn’t see anyone moving around. The drummer shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

While he had been asleep, he had gotten some ideas about how to work on his various mechanical projects. He lined up each project and placed parts that seemed to go with it into a messy pile next to it. Then he would work on each one for a short time and then move to the next when his mind started to wander.

Mike looked about in astonishment. The Clan had taken on a completely different appearance now that night had fallen. It was like he’d stepped into yet another world.

Night blooming flowers spread their petals wide, emitting a soft luminescence to attract insects. Mushrooms cast an eerie bluish radiance from their sheltered locations behind leaves and branches. Above, hanging mosses that had appeared ordinary during the day now seemed to drip fiery tears. As Mike watched, a small bug blundered into the hanging tendrils and was stuck fast to the glowing mass.

It wasn’t just plants that gave off light, although there were many that did. Small chips of something were embedded in the bark of the massive branches in gently swirling patterns that stretched upwards into the darkness. He could just make out the shapes of the branches and trunks that rose around him and arched high overhead.

He wandered down the wide paths between the trees, that wound around and about the clan, wide enough for two dragons of Blutigenacht’s size to pass easily. He could have taken to the upper walkways, but he had this strange sense of something that wasn’t _quite_ vertigo. More of a general sense of discomfort with being off the ground.

After a while he found himself wandering back in the direction of the pad. Maybe Micky was up by now.

* * *

Meanwhile, Micky continued his assembly line procedure.

The piles had gotten messier, mainly due to Micky figuring out that a piece he thought would go better with one project didn’t fit and looked better for a different one. Despite having to shuffle pieces around though, the drummer was able to keep up a quick pace. Soon, the projects grew more and more elaborate as Micky kept adding onto them.

By the time he paused for a moment to listen closely to a sound he had heard, he had cobbled together several elaborate devices. He took the time to look over all of them, stunned that he had accomplished that much in what felt like a short amount of time.

Footsteps drew closer to him. _‘Must be Davy back from his date.’_

“Hey Davy? How’d it go?”

“Hmm?” Mike said as he walked in. “I’m not Davy. It’s me, Mike.” He was relieved to see that Micky had been able to extricate himself from the wall without needing help.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

“Huh, oh sorry,” Micky said, looking up. “I thought you were asleep, babe.” Micky put down the latest thing he was working on and flew over to hover next to Mike.

“Yeah, they’re pretty neat, huh. I have no idea what they do though. Maybe we should just turn all of them on and see what happens.”

Mike shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about how he couldn’t sleep.

Micky glanced over at Mike, tilting his head. He wasn’t sure what to think of Mike going outside when he probably should have been sleeping. Or his not talking. But he figured now was not the time to pry.

Hmm, let’s try this one first.” He reached over and picked up a box-shaped device with glass bulbs and dials on every surface. It clicked a couple times, and then did nothing.

“Huh, must be a dud. Oh well, maybe this one…..”

Mike raised an eyebrow at the lack of any result from the device.

“Did you forget the batteries?” he drawled with a slight smirk.

“It’s not like I can buy a pack from a store,” Micky smirked back. “Besides, shouldn’t this stuff run without batteries? We’re in a fantasy world of dragons. Shouldn’t they have….I dunno, something more mystical than triple AAAs?”

Micky picked up another device, turning it around in his hands.

“Hmm…maybe I put on a few parts backwards…..”

“Well maybe it needs like… magical batteries or something.” Mike said. “I mean, I haven’t seen anything that looks like it uses electricity around here.”

“I guess,” Micky shrugged. “But shouldn’t some of ‘em…I dunno, run on light or air or something? It just seems weird that I can’t get any of them to work.”

Micky sat the box down and looked farther down at the wand-shaped object toward the end of the line.

“Hmm, maybe I could try this next…..”


	22. Chapter 22

“You want to know… how to be a dragon?” Mnissath asked, perplexed. “There’s nothing really to teach, I don’t think. You just _are_ . You exist, and are a dragon. Why do you ask? Because you _are_ a dragon. Aren’t you?”

“Well I guess I am a dragon now,” Davy said, his chuckle bitter. “But I didn’t start out that way. I was a human. I lived on a place called Earth. I was a musician. I had a life there. Now….who knows how long we’ll be stuck here.”

Davy let out a long sigh. “Don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t seem like a terrible place. It’s just….I don’t know how to fit in here. And I don’t like that much.”

Mnissath flicked his feather crest thoughtfully. He didn’t know what to make of Davy’s statement. He was, however, fairly good at scrying. And while scrying the future was… uncertain, to say the least, scrying the past was much easier.

He stared into the surface of the water, his eyes glowing with a deep blue color as he concentrated on the strange Skydancer. The waters swirled, taking on color. Images flickered across its surface. He did not understand them. Foremost among the images was, well his first thought was Beastclan, but not any that he had seen before. Four of them, though the images focused mostly on the smallest of them.

“Look at the waters. Do those images mean anything to you?” he hissed in sibilant tones. It was taking a lot more effort to maintain this scry than he expected.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right,” Davy said, his eyes widening in astonishment. “That’s me, Right there. And that’s Micky. And Peter. And Mike. That’s what we are…were…I don’t know.”

Davy leaned back, his eyes transfixed on the images in the water. He was surprised to find how painful it was to see himself as human again. A part of him wanted to look away, and yet he didn’t have the heart to move.

“How are you doing this?” Davy asked, gesturing at the water.

Mnissath broke off his spell casting and plunged his head into the water, taking a few deep breaths before pulling his head out and shaking the water off.

“Agh. That was way harder than it should have been. Uh… Oh. It’s a Water magic technique. Water is the element of uh… prophecy! that’s it. So I can see the future if I really try, but usually it’s pretty confused? It’s generally a lot easier to scry the present or past…” he rubbed his head. “That scry… that took a lot more out of me than it should have. Is that really what you looked like?”

“Yeah, it is,” Davy said solemnly. “I guess it’s pretty weird for you.”

Davy went back to looking at the stars. Ever since he was a child, he had found ways to make friends and get along with people. He’d go to parties, play sports and just hang out with friends whenever he could.

But now…for the first time in a long time…he felt alone.

Mnissath looked over at the Skydancer staring at the stars above. He wished he could help… but his head was starting to throb from that spellcasting. And since sticking his head underwater for extended periods of time tended to freak out non-Water dragons, it was probably time to call it a night.

“Hey, uhm David? It was nice to get to know you, even if you aren’t into guys, but uh that scry… It took a lot more magic than I thought it would, and I’ve got a headache now. I guess I’ll see you around? So uh goodnight, and I hope you find a way home.” He picked up his basket and slipped into the water.

“That’s all right,” Davy shrugged. “Thanks for the evening, Mnissath. Sorry it…didn’t work out.”

Davy watched him swim away. He felt humiliated for making such a basic mistake and still had no clue as to how to make sure a dragon was a girl or boy. He also felt homesick for the first time since this began.

He let out a long sigh and stood up. He grabbed his basket and took to the air, certain that he would be taking his time going home.


	23. Chapter 23

Davy slowly circled the sky above the pad. He didn’t want to come down just because he knew the guys would ask about his date. Eventually, he decided to try to sneak in with the hope that they’d be asleep by now.

Something caught Mike’s attention. He twists his head around to look at the door just as Davy slipped quietly inside.

“Hey Davy! How did your date go?”

“Huh?” Micky said, lifting his head up. He turned his head from side to side, trying to hear what Mike must have heard, but could detect nothing. A few seconds later though, he heard a long sigh and watched a dejected looking Davy trudge into the room.

“Why are you lot still up?” Davy grumbled. “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Well, I already had a nap,” Micky replied. “Say, how did your date go?”

Mike nodded his agreement with Micky’s statement, before tilting his head quizzically.

“You seem down. What happened? Was she not interested in you?”

“Oh there was interest all right,” Davy mumbled while frowning. “Just not the right kind.”

“What does that mean?” Micky asked. He moved away from his projects to hover near Mike.

“Oh all right, if you must know, she wasn’t a girl,” Davy said. “He was a he. I mean, he was a man…uh, male dragon. So no, the date didn’t go well. It didn’t go at all. Satisfied?”

Mike blinked, hard.

“Wait, what?” He had to fight to keep from laughing. Poor Davy… Sure, they knew people at home who were into that sort of thing, but Davy certainly wasn’t one of them. And certainly none of them had ever mistaken a guy for a girl… although Micky has fooled others before with his Mrs Arcadian getup.

Micky stared at Davy silently. For a split second, he wondered if he would make the same mistake if he tried to find someone to be with while he was still a dragon. It probably would be more than a little embarrassing.

However, that moment immediately passed and Micky went with the most natural response in a situation like this: he started giggling. Loudly.

“Y-you, you couldn’t tell…..you, you had….no idea…that he….that he was…..”

By that point, Micky gave up trying to talk and instead rolled around in the air in a fit of laughter.

“Micky knock it off. You’re gonna get yourself tangled up again if you keep on like that.” Mike scolded him.

He glanced over at Davy, and was surprised to see that his eyes seemed to be glowing with an orange light. And it didn’t seem to be reflected light either. Had they been doing that before?

“B-but, but Mike…it’s…he….he couldn’t tell…and they…..”

Micky continued to laugh. A knot was starting to form near his tail again, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less about that. This was the first real laugh he had had since he had been here and he was going to relish it.

Meanwhile, Davy glared at Micky with a smoldering look in his eyes. He felt hot, flush with humiliation and throughout this, Micky kept on laughing.

“It’s not funny,” he said, his scowl deepening along with his voice.

Unnoticed by Micky or Davy, a thread thin wisp of smoke rose up from one of the branch tips lining the pad.

“Come on Micky. You’d’ve probably made the same mistake in his place.” Mike said reproachfully as he watched Davy. His eyes were definitely glowing as he glowered at them, almost… _smoldering_ with anger. Like a fire had been lit behind his eyes.

It was probably his imagination, but he could swear he smelled burning…

“Oh sure, but this is Davy,” Micky said between laughs. “I mean, girls are always fawning all over him. But…but he gets here and the first date he has…he didn’t even check…oh man I wish could have seen his face.”

Micky ended up draping himself across Mike so he could keep laughing without looping into an even bigger knot. He knew that if he didn’t want to get the same kind of teasing in the future, he’d have to be very careful for a while.

Two more strands of smoke rose up from that branch before they were abruptly extinguished. At that same moment, Davy gave them one more venomous glare before walking away with a loud huff.

Mike rubbed his face, hiding a smile.

It was funny, he had to admit. Davy’s tendency to fall for a pretty face had finally gotten him in trouble. And not the usual sort of trouble either. Mistaking a guy for a girl? That was definitely a first. _Is it harder to tell with some breeds?_ he wondered. Because Pogue had definitely looked different than Felara, and not just in color/pattern.

He shook his head, amused. He glanced down at Micky who was draped across him, still giggling maniacally.

“Micky…”

“Oh, oh, sorry, babe,” Micky said, slowly moving off of Mike. “I just keep thinking about what his date must have thought. Man, I hope he figures out how to tell the guys and girls apart soon. Or…maybe not….”

Micky chuckled again as he flew back over to his pile of inventions. He was still unsure of what to do with them and wondered if maybe he could do some research before trying to do more.

Mike stared off into space. Davy’s date disaster had driven home just how much they didn’t know about this place. Could they afford to make mistakes like that?

His breathing slowed, though his mind continued to churn at a rapid pace. He wanted to sleep. More than that he wanted to go home. Back to his own body. Back to where you could tell the difference between guys and girls easily. Back where it was impossible to crush a rock in your bare hand.

His heartbeat slowed as he grew still yet again.


	24. Chapter 24

Blutigenacht paced the clearing that the Monkees had appeared in, searching for some clue as to where they came from. There had to be some residual magic somewhere…

He stopped as his eye was caught by a small object lying in the grass. It was green, and blended in with the grass around it. He sniffed at it. It smelled alien, and yet there was something familiar about the scent that clung to it. It smelled like… It smelled like that Wildclaw, but there was something off about it. Still… perhaps he would know what it was.

He picked it up with a stick. Not because he was afraid of it or anything, but because he didn’t want to damage it. And it was very small.

He headed back to the clan.

* * *

Davy sulked in his room. He had liked Mnissath as a friend, but was wondering how he could face him again after what had happened tonight. Not to mention the fact that Mnissath had probably been uncomfortable too. Maybe that was why the “date” had been cut short. Sure, Mnissath had said it was a headache, but that was an excuse he had heard about before.

He frowned again. Davy wasn’t sure how one went about making connections with dragons, but he was certain that the way to make friends in this community did not include trial and error attempts at dating. He needed to find a way to make sure this didn’t happen again.

But who could he ask to help with something like that?

Micky gathered up his projects and pushed the piles of parts off to the side. As much as he would like to keep working on them; he also aware that a large part of that was because he wanted something to keep him occupied. Thus, he figured he it would be more productive to find something else to do for now.

Once he was done, he glanced over at Mike and sighed. The Texan had become silent and still again. Micky knew that it was best to give Mike some space when he got like that, but the drummer worried that this was more than Mike’s usual need for time to reflect. It was almost as if the Texan was trying to shut himself off from what was going on for a while rather than deal with it directly.

There is a tapping on the door.

Mike doesn’t react.

“Uh, Mike? Babe? There’s someone out there.”

Micky sighed. He was used to Mike being quiet and moody at times, but usually the Texan wasn’t downright antisocial like this. Still, he figured that there was no point in making a big deal out of it and flew off toward the door.

He opened up the door as quick as he could, curious to see who was visiting them now.

Blutigenacht nodded as the Spiral answered the door.

“Ah. I thought there might still be someone up. I found something that might be yours.” He was too big to fit inside, but he poked a stick through the doorway, carefully.

“Is this of interest to you?”

Hanging off the stick was a hat.

“Hi, Blutigenacht,” Micky grinned at him. “Oh hey, yeah. That’s Mike’s hat. Thanks. But where did you find it?”

“It was lying in the grass in the same place I found you.” Blutigenacht rumbled. He set the stick down. “I will be off. There are things I need to do before the night is out.” He nodded to Micky, and turned to leave.

Mike still hasn’t moved.

“Ok, thanks again, bye,” Micky said, waving and calling out to him as he left. He then shut the door and took the hat off the stick before setting the stick aside.

“Hey Mike, look,” he said as he zipped back into the room where the Texan was. “Blutigenacht found your hat. Cool, huh. I thought maybe you lost it back home.”

“Mike?”

Mike blinks. When had Micky gotten there? And why was he moving so fast?

As Mike watched, Micky seemed to slow down to normal speed, and the object in his claws became clear. His eyes widened.

“Wh-where did you get that?”

Micky frowned. He had been trying to get Mike’s attention for a couple of minutes, but the Texan had not moved in the slightest. He was starting to get worried and considered going after Blutigenacht to ask for help when Mike finally blinked, prompting a sigh of relief.

“Blutigenacht found it where we first appeared here,” he answered. He held it out to Mike. “I guess it had fallen off when you changed into a dragon or something.”

Mike took it in his claws. It was smaller than he remembered. He sank to the floor, clutching it in his claws. He couldn’t wear it. Not with these horns he now possessed.

And that hurt.


	25. Chapter 25

Micky’s smile disappeared from his face. He had hoped that giving Mike back his cherished hat would cheer the Texan up. But instead it seemed to have the opposite effect.

The drummer’s heart ached. Ever since they had gotten here, it seemed like Mike kept teetering on the edge of depression. Or worse yet, a breakdown of some kind. A few times, it seemed as if he was making progress, but then moments like this reminded Micky that those signs of progress might have just been wishful thinking.

Still, he was determined to do something to help Mike. It wasn’t much of an idea, but a silly notion suddenly occurred to him. He reached over and gently extracted the hat from Mike’s hands.

“You might be able to still wear it,” he said. “Here, let me try something.”

Micky hovered up higher and carefully perched the hat on the top of Mike’s head.

“Ta-da!”

Mike smiles faintly, but is unable to resist the urge to flick his crest feathers and the hat falls to the floor.

Micky had grinned in response until the hat fell off. His smile faltered, but he immediately swooped down to pick it up.

“Ok, that didn’t work, but I’m sure I can get it to stay on. Just give me another chance. Let me see here….”

The discovery that he can control the feathers in his crest distracts Mike for a few moments as he flicks it at Micky. He wonders what it looks like when he does that.

Micky grinned and chuckled. It was fun to watch Mike play around with his feathers, flicking them to and fro.

He also got to thinking about the hat in his hands. Micky knew he probably could get it onto Mike’s head if he put it on one of the horns, but that could tear a hole in it. And unlike back home, the Texan didn’t have access to his many spare wool hats. He needed to find a way to make it so Mike could wear it without destroying it.

_‘Maybe….maybe someone could make Mike one. A duplicate. I mean, they make pants for dragons around here. I’m sure a hat would be no problem.’_

Micky grinned again. He wasn’t sure who to ask about having a hat made. Maybe Felara? If not her, maybe Zelioth would know. Micky wanted to see him again anyway to learn more about what this Arcane stuff was all about.

Mike wondered what Micky was thinking. He seemed to be amused by his feather flicking, so Mike kept at it for a little bit. Soon however the novelty wears off and he lowers his head to his chest, wrapping his wings around his body.

Mike was lost. Lost in a world he knew nothing about. Even the things that were familiar to him didn’t make him feel any better, rather they seemed out of place and only drove home the fact that this was a completely alien world.

He didn’t know what to do.

He wanted this to be over.

He wanted to know that this wasn’t permanent. Mike found he rather envied Peter’s worldview, the bassists unfailing optimism, his confidence that it would all work out. Mike was too much of a realist to share that mindset.

Micky chuckled for a couple more minutes until Mike finally stopped flicking his feathers about and just stopped moving again. Worse yet, the Texan had curled in on himself.

By this point, Micky didn’t know what he should do. His first impulse was to give Mike a hug, but he was unsure if that would be helpful or even wanted right now. As much as Mike could be touchy feely with him; the Texan wasn’t always big on receiving physical gestures of affection back.

Micky looped about trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to intrude on Mike if the Texan was trying to work through his thoughts and feelings about all this. But he didn’t want to let Mike get too wrapped up in his inner world either.

“Um, Mike, I uh, I’m gonna go talk to Davy. I’ll be back in a little while, ok?”

Mike nodded silently. He didn’t really have anything to say, and he could use the alone time. Mike reaches over and picks up a rock. It is smooth and round and unremarkable. Just a plain ordinary rock worn smooth by a river’s current. He stares at it, squeezes it cautiously, and is relieved when it doesn’t crumble on him.

It seems to steady him. He holds it in his hands and bows his head over it. Just think of the rock. Just the rock. Smooth and round and dull and ordinary.

Micky gave him a little wave and then headed off to what he supposed had become Davy’s room. He knocked a little and slowly opened the door. Davy looked over and immediately scowled at him.

“Micky, I’m really not in the mood for your…..”

“No wait, hold on,” Micky said as he went into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier, but I need your help.”

Davy frowned again and let out a huff. After the night he had just had; he wasn’t really in the mood to forgive Micky. Then again, he wasn’t really in the mood to be by himself either.

“All right,” Davy said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Mike,” Micky said. “Ever since we’ve been here, he’s been….off. I mean, sure, I think we’ve all freaked out some. I know I still…..” Micky stopped himself and shook his head, determined to not dwell on his own issues right now. “But Mike, he’s freaking out on another level. Maybe he’s not being all dramatic and loud with it, but it’s…it’s still scary.”

“Yeah,” Davy said. “So what should we do?”

“I don’t know,” Micky replied. “But I think we should get Peter in on this too. Let’s go to his room and tell him about this.”

Peter is curled up on a pile of ragged fabric like a cat in clean laundry, snoring gently. (He didn’t like the way the furs smelled.) He doesn’t react when Davy and Micky enter the room.

Micky and Davy stare at Peter sleeping on the floor and then look at each other.

“Seems like a pity to wake him,” Davy shrugged. “He looks right peaceful like that.”

“Yeah…but Mike needs our help,” Micky said. “Pete can sleep any time.” Micky and Davy walked over to Peter and both of them began nudging him and saying his name close to his head.

Peter’s ears twitch and he raises his head, blinking sleepily.

“Muh…? Oh. Hey Micky. Hey Davy. Is it morning already?” He yawns, revealing a set of massive canines before adopting his usual pleasant, if slightly spacey, expression. He was only slightly surprised to find that they were all still dragons.

“Whoa, wait, Peter!” Micky said, scooting backwards. “Man, what’s with the teeth?”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Davy said, taking a couple steps back himself. “I thought you were supposed to be a vegetarian. Those looks like something from a saber tooth tiger or something.”

Peter tilted his head, puzzled.

“My teeth?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re just like that.”

Micky shuddered. He still thought it was weird that Peter would have such deadly looking teeth when he only ate vegetables. Then again, they were also dragons now, so “weird” had become an odd term to assign to anything.

Instead he and Davy moved back closer to Peter with Micky telling him about the situation with Mike.

Peter listened attentively as Micky explained. His face fell as he heard that Mike still wasn’t adjusting well.

“Poor Mike…” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Micky said, shaking his head sadly. “We got to do something to help him out or…or I dunno what he’ll do.”

“But what can we do, Micky?” Davy said. “You know how he is. Not only does he usually not ask for help, he doesn’t even accept it when you offer it. So what do you suggest?”

Micky shook his head and looked over to Peter for inspiration.

Peter blinked. They were looking to him for ideas? This wasn’t good. If Micky didn’t know how to make Mike feel better…

He looked out at the dark room. Where was Mike anyway? He couldn’t see him in this light. Nor could he feel Mike displacing air by moving. Peter frowned. He stirred the air gently. He felt it flow over an object…

“When did we get a statue of Mike?”

Micky snorted. “What statue? We don’t have a….Mike?!”


	26. Chapter 26

The drummer zipped into the room and hovered around the Texan who remained perfectly still. He moved in closer and was panicked to discover that he couldn’t detect much of a heartbeat or breathing from Mike either.

“What’s happened to him?” Davy asked. “Some kind of spell or something?”

“I, I, I don’t know,” Micky said. “Mike? Babe, can you hear us?”

Peter padded over to Mike. The bassist nudged Mike with his head, but it was like nudging that statue Mike had picked out. There was no give to him at all. He felt like a rock.

“Michael?” Peter asked fearfully. He pawed at the Wildclaw, trying to get his attention (much like a dog would), but there was no response. Finally, he saw what Mike was focused on. His hands were cupped around a smooth river cobble. Maybe if he removed that Mike would wake up?

He reaches into Mike’s cupped hands and removes the rock, setting it aside.

* * *

Mike noticed motion flickering in his peripheral vision, but when he looked around he couldn’t see what had caused it. He hears some high pitched noise, like sped-up voices, but he pays it no heed. There was no way he was going to allow himself to hear things that clearly weren’t there.

There is more flickering in his peripheral vision, but Mike ignores it… until there is a flicker of something vaguely sand-colored. With that, the rock he’d been staring at abruptly vanished.

His eyes dart around. He sees the cobble is over in a corner… and that the guys are suddenly there next to him.

And yet there is something off about them. They seem blurry around the edges. Micky is extremely out of focus, appearing as a crimson and tangerine blur that hovers nearby. Peter and Davy are a bit clearer, he can see their approximate shapes… but their patterns are indistinct.

However, as Mike turns his attention towards them, he finds they grow clearer with each passing moment.

* * *

“Mike? Mike? Mike, can you hear us?” Micky continued to ask, his anxiety rising.

“We got to do something,” Davy said. “We can’t just sit here and hope he’ll snap out of it. It might get worse instead of better.”

“I know, I know, but what?” Micky said. He zipped back and forth for a minute before an idea finally came to him. “I’ll go talk to Zelioth. He seemed to know something about magic. Maybe he can do something about this. You guys stay here while I go find him.”

The drummer zoomed out of the pad into the night. Meanwhile Davy sighed and waved a wing in front of Mike.

“Hey Peter,” he said. “Did you see that? Didn’t it look like Mike’s eyes were moving?”

“I can’t see much of anything.” Peter admitted. “It’s too dark in here.” He did think Mike’s scent was getting a bit stronger, though it still didn’t smell as if Mike was actually there. Hmm… Wasn’t there a light source somewhere? Like that glowy smudge on the far wall? Peter trotted over and poked it with one large paw and the room brightened, though only to about half as bright as it was during the day. It still did the trick.

As he trotted back to where Davy was hovering over Mike, Peter realized that Mike _was_ breathing. Just very, very slowly. But he was breathing, and breathing faster as time passed, though the rate was still below the norm.

* * *

Mike didn’t know what was going on. Had some sort of spell hit his friends? They were moving so fast. He could focus on them, almost. Micky had zipped off somewhere. Davy had flashed his wings in front of his face. Peter had dashed over to the lights and turned them on before dashing back. He blinked at the light, and started to move, folding his wings back and rising to his feet.

* * *

“There, you see?” Davy said with a nod. “I’m sure I just saw his chest move. But…why is he just sitting like that? Why won’t he say anything?”

Davy frowned. He felt bad that Mike was having such a hard time adjusting to being a dragon, but a small part of him was irritated with the Texan at that moment. He was starting to wonder if Mike had somehow turned himself into a statue without telling the rest of them about it. It bothered him that they were all worried about something that Mike had chosen to do in the first place.

Still, he wanted to give Mike the benefit of the doubt. So he sighed and kept watching, hoping that Mike would get better soon.

* * *

Zelioth is fast asleep when his wards nudge him awake. There was someone there. He summons a light, filling the room with harsh luminance.

“Who goes there?” he growls.

“Um…I’m sorry,” Micky said softly as he slowly crept inside. “It’s uh, it’s me, Micky. You know, you met me earlier today. And I uh, kind of passed out.”

The drummer looped about nervously. He really didn’t want to make Zelioth upset by bothering him, but his worries over Mike overrode his concerns about being rude.

“Something’s wrong with Mike,” he continued. “It’s like he’s become a statue. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He’s barely breathing. And we can’t wake him up. Do you…do you think someone cast a spell on him or something?”

“Oh hello there, Micky, was it?” Zelioth lowered the light level in his rooms to accommodate the Spiral. “My apologies. I usually don’t get visitors when I’m asleep. You say your friend seems to be under some sort of a spell? Of course I will help. Let’s go.” He followed Micky back to the pad.

* * *

Peter watched, awestruck, as Mike started to move. He felt as if he was in the presence of some great ancient construct, rising out of its sleep of aeons… Mike was moving just as he imagined something like that would move, slowly, with a sense of great weight and force in his limbs, a sense of inevitability. Peter was a bit surprised when Mike’s movements weren’t accompanied by a great creaking and groaning noise.

As Mike unfolded from his position on the floor, Peter realized that his scent was getting much stronger, and that he was breathing more normally. He smiled, relieved. Mike also seemed to be, well, speeding up in his movements.

Mike flexed the stiffness out of his limbs as he rose to his full height. How long had been sitting there? It’d only felt like a couple minutes… The clock in his head supplied the answer, and Mike wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe it. He had been sitting there, in that position, _for a full hour_??

Peter and Davy were still watching him.

“What-” he croaked, and cleared his throat. “What are y’all looking at me like that for?”

“What? Are you serious?” Davy said. “Maybe because you were just sitting there, not moving or hardly even breathing. We thought something had happened to you. Micky’s gone off to get someone to see if someone had cast a spell on your or something. We thought you might have been…..”

Davy shook his head. Normally, he had enough patience to look beyond Mike’s personality quirks. But after all the change that had happened, his concerns over Micky and his disastrous date, Davy’s patience was starting to wear thin.

“Are you telling me you just decided to sit there and be a statue?” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly at Mike. “And you didn’t think we’d be worried about it?”

Before Mike had a chance to answer, Micky showed back up with Zelioth. Micky cocked his head to the side in confusion when he saw Peter and Davy’s expressions, but was in for a greater shock when he saw Mike looking like he was back to normal.

“What…what happened?” the drummer asked.

“You’re askin’ me?“ Mike asked incredulously, bristling at Davy’s tone. “And whaddya mean ‘hardly even breathing’?” Zelioth walked over and sniffed him.

“You seem alright to me. I’m not sensing any foreign magic on you. Whatever caused the effect is gone now.” He shrugged and yawned. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m not at my best right now, I’m afraid.” He rubbed his face sleepily. “I’m not sure if there’s anything i can do here for you without seeing the effect you’re speaking of in action, and on a full night's sleep.“ He yawned again, wider this time, revealing the same sorta teeth Peter possessed. “Goodnight.” He wandered off.

Peter nodded, waving him goodbye, before curling up at Mike’s feet. Mike was ok, and that was good. He smelled alive, and he didn’t seem to be scared, but Peter didn’t really want to leave him alone after what Micky had said. They had to stick together. But he was also still rather sleepy…

“Are you off your bird?” Davy asked. “Peter kept thinking you were a statue. Micky tried listening for your heartbeat and could barely find it. And you’re acting like we’re the ones who are acting weird?”

Davy snorted and glared at him. Even though he was irritated at Mike; Davy could already feel his anger cooling. He was glad that the Texan seemed to be ok. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this was probably just Mike’s version of “flipping out” over what had happened to them. Davy was pretty sure he might do something similar if he spent too much time dwelling on it the way Mike tended to do with just about everything.

Meanwhile, Micky simply continued to stare at Mike with his mouth hanging open. He had managed to mumble a couple words of thanks to Zelioth for stopping by, but his emotions were too much of a mess to make sure that they had been coherent.

The first thing Micky felt was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he panicked again and had involved others by dragging Zelioth there. But then he felt hurt and upset. Everyone seemed to be acting like nothing had just happened and that it was no big deal. But it had been a big deal to Micky. For a few moments, he had thought that they had lost Mike forever. The drummer had felt crushed, scared and lost.

And at that moment, only one thing made sense to him: to run off again as fast as he could.


	27. Chapter 27

“Well y’all were zippin’ around at th’ speed of light…” Mike hesitated. “You’re sayin’ that was all me? I didn’t feel any different… and then you started slowin’ down again when I got up… so I figured you guys had been hit with somethin’.”

“Mike…” Peter mumbled sleepily, “You felt like a rock.”

Mike shook his head. It was absurd. He looked up to see Micky give him a look of confusion and concern and fear… and then flee out the door.

“Oh sh-… Micky?!” There was nothing for Mike to do but to follow and make sure Micky didn’t get lost. Or fall asleep somewhere. Or get hurt. Or…

Davy was about to call out to him, but simply shook his head. After hearing Mike explain it; he still wondered if maybe someone had cast some magic on him. And yet….Zelioth acted like no one else had been involved.

He turned his head toward Peter. He wished that he could be as calm about all this as the bassist. Then again, Davy was starting to wonder if Peter was a little too relaxed about all this.

Either way, Davy was pretty sure that things weren’t going to stop being complicated any time soon.

* * *

Meanwhile, Micky’s speed increased as the thoughts crowding his head grew bleaker and bleaker.

At that moment, he didn’t want to go back to the guys. He wanted to go home, to his parents. He didn’t want to figure out how to be a dragon anymore or how to help Mike learn to cope with it. He wanted his mom to take care of him. He wished he could enjoy his dad’s quiet, stern, but reassuring presence. It was childish and selfish and impossible, but Micky couldn’t help himself.

He wove his way through trees, twisting and turning with no direction in mind. He barely noticed how different, how even more alien the land around him had become at night. The only thing his mind was truly focused on was escape. That and the continued anger and frustration he had over what he had become.

He only started to slow down when he heard a growl from off in the distance.

* * *

Mike pounded off in pursuit of Micky. The drummer was _fast_ , he realized. Branches slapped at his face as he leapt over rocks and fallen branches, always following the flicker of crimson ahead, determined not to lose sight of Micky in this dense jungle.

As he ran, he felt an almost primal thrill. It felt _right_ to run like this, dashing through the wilderness. He grinned to himself. This feeling almost made up for some of the stress he’d felt today. At the very least he felt a bit more at ease with his body.

He hadn’t forgotten why he was running though. He had to catch up to Micky, had to make sure he was safe, had to apologize to him.

There was a growl from up ahead. Mike skidded to a halt as he comes face to face with some huge monstrosity shrouded in shadows.

And it was advancing on Micky.

Mike didn’t hesitate. He hurtled towards the thing as it reached an appendage out towards the terrified drummer. Without thinking he leapt, and the claws on his feet flashed out severing the creatures limb.

He landed and pivoted. The severed vines writhed and-

Vines? He looked closer. Yes, the thing menacing Micky seemed to be a mass of vines. How that worked Mike didn’t know, nor was he particularly eager to find out.

More vines rose, wrapping around the monster and increasing its size. Mike backed up, keeping himself between it and Micky.

Micky had turned around and whimpered at the sight of what looked like a giant plant monster with vines writhing all around it. His mind screamed at him to run, but he doubted that he’d be able to outrun it.

Just when he thought the thing would get him; Mike appeared out of nowhere and leaped in front of him, slashing at the monster. The drummer saw bits of vines drop to the ground. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to stop the thing. In fact, it seemed to be growing.

Micky quaked. He still wanted to run, but he also didn’t want to leave Mike. He settled on getting behind Mike and then carefully wrapping himself around the Texan. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do during a fight, but it was the only thing he could think of. Then he squeezed his eyes shut.

_‘What is this thing? What is it gonna do to us? What if it hurts Mike? I hate it…I wish it would go away…just go away, go away…..’_

Micky felt his breathing speed up as he kept wishing over and over again that the thing would just disappear and leave them alone. The blood pounded in his head as that one thought took over.

As a result, he didn’t even notice it when there was a loud ‘boom’ and then it had suddenly become very quiet.

Mike was relieved when Micky landed on him. He could run now. He really didn’t want to fight that thing, but had been ready to do just that. He would not let it have Micky. He raised his wings to fend off its strikes…

The monster disintegrates with a loud explosion and flash of light. Mike flinches. Something hits his wing and he sweeps it aside, only to find fragments of vines raining down. He rubs at his eyes to clear them before reaching up to stroke a trembling Micky, trying not to shake himself.

“Micky… It’s gone Micky. Somehow.” Mike said, fighting to keep his voice from cracking as he backed away from the place where the monster had stood.

At first, Micky didn’t even hear Mike speaking to him. Eventually, though, he felt someone petting him and he opened his eyes just a crack. Enough to know that he was still wrapped around Mike and that the thing was gone.

“Wha-what happened?” he said, his voice wobbly. “Where’d it go?”

Micky blinked several times and swiveled his head around to scan the area. He didn’t see any sign of the monster other than a twisted lump of singed vine bits on the ground.

Soon, his curiosity was replaced by a wave of wooziness overtaking him. He suddenly felt weak, as if he had just spent a ton of energy, although he wasn’t sure how. Other than maybe when he was flying away from the pad. Or maybe just sheer terror.

Mike wasn’t sure what had destroyed that vine creature, and he didn’t really want to stick around to find out, not with Micky wrapped around him. Instead, he backed away a respectable distance before turning and hightailing it back to the pad.

“You ok there Mick?” he asked as he ran.

“I..I think so,” Micky mumbled. “Just…tired is all.”

Truthfully, he felt completely drained. It didn’t help that he was still confused, emotionally. He even felt more than a little bit conflicted about riding around on Mike’s neck and shoulders like this again. He wasn’t sure if things were all right between them or not.

Soon, it didn’t matter though because as much as he would have liked to avoid it, he felt himself starting to fall asleep again.

And he definitely did not want to let Mike go.


	28. Chapter 28

Mike was ok with that.

He ran through the forest back to the center of the Clan and the pad. He was able to relax and enjoy the run now that Micky was safely wrapped around him. He bounced off logs and boulders, dodged around trees, leapt and spun through the jungle slashing at hanging vines, never slowing, never placing a foot wrong.

It was exhilarating.

Soon, too soon, he arrived back at the pad.

* * *

Micky was fast asleep long before that. He had started to dream of home again, of being with his parents and sisters. However, it wasn’t long before his dreams shifted and became darker. He dreamed he was wandering in a dark forest and that the trees had suddenly grown arms and hands and were trying to grab at him. He had tried to run, but the gnarled, wooden fingers kept grabbing at him.

Micky whimpered and curled himself around Mike a little more securely.

Back at the pad, Davy had tried to stay awake to wait for Mike and Micky to get home, but seeing Peter look so comfortable and sleepy had made Davy sleepy too. Thus, by the time Mike got back, Davy was already slumbering next to Peter.

Mike watched them sleep, a small smile on his face. He settled himself nearby, his wings spread protectively as he curled around them. If he wasn’t going to sleep, then he would keep watch. This world, as he had discovered, was dangerous. The memory of the plant creature attacking Micky remained fresh in his mind. As did the memory of it exploding in a flash of brilliant pink light.

He would not let that happen to his friends.

Davy slept for a while before waking up briefly to discover that Mike was back and that it was the Texan’s wing that was stretched over him. He bristled slightly over the idea of being sheltered that way, but didn’t really want to move that wing aside either.

He then thought about Micky, but brushed that concern aside by reminding himself that Mike wouldn’t be lounging around like this unless Micky was back at the pad somewhere.

Reassured that everyone was here and safe, Davy shrugged slightly and put his head down to go back to sleep. He had been dreaming about a particularly pretty blond and he was hoping to return to that dream shortly.

Peter slept like a log. He dreamed of the wind. It swirled around them, painting the sky with fantastic patterns.

He was the wind.

* * *

Unfortunately, Micky’s bad dreams did not stop.

He eventually escaped the nightmare of the trees tearing at him with wooden claw-like hands. However, next he was back at his childhood home, trying to reunite with his family only to find them screaming at him.

He had been confused…until he looked down at himself and realized that he was still a dragon. Then he joined in with strangled cries of his own.

After that, it was just darkness. An enveloping ink-black void of nothing. It didn’t matter where he went or how fast he could run. Even his words were swallowed up in the nothingness.

“Mike!”

Mike heard Micky shout his name and he nearly leapt to his feet before remembering. Micky was wrapped around him. Safe. The Spiral trembled, coils tightening around Mike’s body, tail thrashing, though he still seemed to be asleep. Mike bowed his head and nudged against him reassuringly.

“I’m right here, Mick.” he murmured, glad that everyone else was asleep. He stroked Micky’s coils with a surprising tenderness. “It’ll be alright. I’ve got you.”

Fortunately, Mike’s reassurance seemed to seep into Micky’s dreams. Slowly, the sound of the Texan’s’ voice melted the blackness away.

Soon, he was transported to another memory. A memory of the two of them sitting on the beach together. It had been earlier on in their friendship, but after things had started to change between them. They had spent most of that day swimming together and running along the beach. Mike even took part in silly stuff like making sand castles and burying each other in the sand.

Toward the end of the day, they watched the sun start to set. Sitting side by side, Micky had babbled on about a variety of things while Mike just sat silently and smiled.

What Mike probably didn’t know was that Micky had just been shy about just silently sitting with him. Because at that moment, watching Mike stare out at the water, Micky knew that he was closer to the Texan than anyone else he knew.

It was a calming memory…one that put a smile on a sleeping spiral’s face as he relaxed into peaceful slumber again.

Mike smiled as Micky appeared to relax again. He stroked him a little more, then, very quietly, he began to sing.

Even though Micky didn’t wake up, he could still hear the singing in his dreams. The smile on his face grew as he snuggled his face against Mike’s shoulder.

Mike continued to sing quietly, and soon realized the room was getting lighter. He also found he was hungry. He rose to his feet and stretched the stiffness out of his limbs before going to see about breakfast for the four of them.

Pale beams of sunlight filtered down through the canopy, giving the leaves an emerald glow. The great trees still cast huge dark shadows across the Clan, but they seemed much less ominous in the early morning.

Mike moved quietly. He didn’t actually mean to, but it just came easily as he headed towards where Felara was. He stopped as her station? kitchen? diner? bar? came into view. There was… quite the crowd. Mike was suddenly extremely self-conscious as he hesitated some ways away in the shadow of a tree. Was there a hierarchy involved in being served?

As he watched the crowd, he saw Felara look up from her station and lock eyes with him. She smiled and motioned him forward. Mike cautiously approached.

Several dragons started as he passed, having not heard him approach. He could feel the stares on him and he bristled, feathers rising along his back and neck. This was a bad idea. He could come back later… Was he the only dragon of his kind here? He saw several others of Micky and Peter’s kind, and even one of Davy’s kind, but none like him.

His stomach growled at him demandingly and Mike reluctantly complied, approaching Felara’s counter as the dragons she had just served took off to eat in the trees nearby.

* * *

The scent of food began to rouse Micky from his sleep. Not that he actually wanted to wake all the way up. He was far too comfortable and warm where he was. He yawned, but made sure to keep his eyes shut. There was noise, but it was easy for him to bury his face against Mike again to shut those sounds out.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he told himself that he probably should get up, but Micky Dolenz never was one to pop out of bed. So he stayed, lazily drifting between semi-awake and mostly asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Mike folded his wings against himself as he approached the counter. He could feel the eyes of dozens of dragons on him. Felara smiled as he approached.

“Good morning Mike!” she said cheerfully.

“And good morning to you too ma’am.” Mike replied, his sense of courtesy overriding his nervousness briefly.

At the sound of his voice, what Mike had taken to be some sort of potted plant next to him jumped. It turned around to reveal that it was not a plant but instead a dragon, one of the small ones that looked rather like butterflies. It was in fact only wearing leafy branches. That, plus the rest of the dragon’s apparel, gave Mike the impression he was looking at some sort of forest spirit.

Chloreth had been startled when the soft voice sounded next to her, and even more surprised when she turned around to discover a Wildclaw she’d never seen before watching her with equal surprise in his Earth brown eyes.

“Where did you come from??” she yelped. Mike took a step back.

“Oh I-I’m sorry uh sir? ma’am? I didn’t mean to startle you.” he stammered apologetically.

“Chloreth, this is Mike. He only arrived yesterday so play nice.” Felara reprimanded her after watching the Fae’s crests flicker and wave in a very insulting manner. Chloreth ‘harrumphed’ and flew off, leaving Mike rather bewildered.

“Don’t mind her, she’s always like that. Now, where are the other two? I see Micky’s made you his Napping Buddy, but where are Peter and Davy?”

“Uh… they’re still asleep. I was just coming to see if I could get breakfast for the four of us, if it’s ok.” he said.

“Oh it’s perfectly ok! Not everyone wants to eat here I understand. Feel free to stop by absolutely any time. I’ve always got something cooking. Morning, noon, and night.“ As she spoke she placed bundles on the counter. “There you go!”

“Thank you. Uh… could I ask a question?” Mike asked hesitantly. At Felara’s nod he continued. “What do you mean Micky’s made me his ‘Napping Buddy’?”

“It’s a Spiral thing.” Felara explained, “Because the breed is so prone to passing out at random, many Spirals have what they call a Napping Buddy, someone they trust to keep them safe while they sleep. It’s actually considered a great honor by some.”

“Oh…“ Mike murmured.

Micky continued to hear the murmur and babble of voices, coaxing him to wake up. The sound of a familiar voice, Felara, started to move him much closer to consciousness. As well as the smell of food making his stomach growl. Spices and pungent sauces were tickling his nose.

He opened his eyes in slits, the new day sunlight making him squint a great deal. He could hear Mike talking to Felara although he wasn’t paying much attention to what was being said. Instead, he was more focused on the fact that he was still wrapped around the Texan.

Micky blushed. He hadn’t meant to spend all night sleeping around Mike again. It had just sort of happened, the same way a deep nap can happen if one makes contact with a really comfortable couch. He worried that Mike might not think much of the increased amount of physical contact.

He shut his eyes again, still not ready to face the day and be social. However, he did hone in on Felara mentioning something about a Napping Buddy….and his blush grew in intensity when heard her explain what it was.

Mike thanked Felara again before taking the food and making his way back to the pad. Once he was in the shadows again, out of sight of all those strangers, he felt himself relax. He attempted to run his fingers through his hair, remembered he didn’t actually have hair, and instead ran his claws through the short feathers covering his scalp. It had the same effect.

He returned to the pad and unpacked the food. The smell of meat wafted up to him and he shuddered. Setting aside the others’ meals, he stared at the package in front of him before unwrapping it.

Meat rolls. Literally. Meat rolled up in another sort of meat. Mike took a deep breath. He could do this. He would eat the meat in a calm, dignified fashion. There would not be a repeat of what happened yesterday. There would n-…


	30. Chapter 30

Micky wished he could have thanked Felara as well, but figured it’d be rude to suddenly start talking after looking like he had been asleep the whole time.

Instead, he tried to process what Felara had said about “Napping Buddies”. Is that what Mike had become to him? True, he did actually trust Mike a lot. Probably with his life even. But this, this seemed like something more…direct than just having feelings and beliefs like that. Sure, he could try to chalk it up to it just being a “breed thing” because he’d been turned into a dragon. But the truth was, he was pretty sure he hadn’t chosen Mike just because the Texan happened to be there.

Once they got to the pad, Micky opened his eyes. He saw that Peter and Davy were still asleep and decided to make sure to not disturb them. Once Mike unwrapped the food, his mouth started to water. He could smell some kind of spicy dish that he was confident was made of bugs. He knew Davy wouldn’t touch it which was fine by him as hungry as he felt.

However, just as he was about to open his mouth to greet Mike, Micky heard a low growl accompanied by the sound of ripping flesh. Mike was eating. More accurately, Mike was savagely tearing into his food, chomping at it while letting out guttural snarls. It wasn’t long before Mike was quiet again and the smell of meat was gone.

Micky swallowed hard, doing his best to keep it quieter than the heavy breathing Mike did when he was finished.

Mike came back to his senses with a start. It had happened again, he realized as he took a deep shuddering breath. One moment he’d been about to take a bite… and next thing he knew his belly was full and the meat was gone. Was this going to happen every time?

He scrubbed at his face briefly before giving up and just putting his head in his hands, trembling.

Micky held still for several more moments. He noticed Mike rubbing his face and then putting it into his hands. But when the Texan started to tremble; he felt awful for Mike. Micky was sure that the Texan was upset and that bothered him. There was no reason why Mike should have to feel this way just because he was hungry.

“Um, Mike?” he said, uncoiling himself some so he could get a better look at Mike’s face. “Mike…what’s wrong?”

“Gaaah!!” Mike yelped. “Mi-Micky!? I thought you were still asleep!” Except… Mike realized with a sinking feeling, Micky hadn’t been snoring for some time now. At least not since he’d spoken to Felara.

Micky uncoiled himself completely and quickly moved over to face Mike. Now that he thought about it; it was dumb of him to just lean over and start talking to Mike like that. He needed to stop sleeping like this all over Mike…even if it did feel so much better than sleeping in a wall.

“I, I’m sorry, Mike,” he stammered. “I was asleep, but I smelled food and uh…I was getting kinda hungry.”

Mike sighed.

“You saw didn’t you.” he said flatly. “You saw how I ate.” He didn’t meet Micky’s eyes.

“Well…no, not exactly,” Micky replied. “I mean, I heard you. You sounded really hungry.” He flew over closer and hovered in front of Mike.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Why are you so upset over eating some meat?”

“It’s not the meat, Mick. It’s the fact that I don’t really remember eating it. I… I tasted it and suddenly it’s gone. Between that… it’s just a blur.” He laughed weakly. “All I know is that it tasted really good.”

“Well…at least Felara is a good cook,” Micky tried to joke. “Imagine how you’d be if it was bad.”

Micky regretted the lame joke almost immediately. Honesty, he could relate somewhat to what Mike was feeling. He flicked his tail across Mike’s shoulders.

“So you….you get a little intense when you eat. It’s not so bad. It almost sounds like when I just fall asleep out of nowhere. That’s not real convenient either.” Micky moved in a little closer yet. “But you said we’d stick together through this, right? So the same goes for you.”

Mike nodded, finally meeting Micky’s eyes with a half smile.

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He looked over at where Davy and Peter still slept. “Think we should wake them?”

“Nah, let ‘em sleep,” Micky chuckled. “I doubt Davy is going to want to watch me eat that bug dish Felara packed for me.”

Micky licked his lips and was about to go for the food when another thought occurred to him, causing the smile to vanish from his face.

“Mike, I…I’m sorry I ran off. And, um…I’m sorry that I keep sleeping on you. I know you’re not big on stuff like that. Touchy feely stuff. And we’ve got that hole in the wall now. I can just…I can sleep there. It’s no big deal.”

“You actually find it comfortable to sleep in the wall like that?” Mike chuckled. “Peter looks like a better bed than that. And as for sleeping on me… I mean… it’s not too bad I guess. On occasion mind you.”

Micky’s heart sank at little at that. He knew he shouldn’t have expected Mike to be happy with the arrangement of being used as a bed. Even if the whole “Napping Buddy” thing Felara mentioned was something Micky was starting to think might be for real. He would just have to learn to do without.

“Uh, sure. it’s nice and secure in there,” he shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about getting stepped on or something. And…I’d probably just get a mouthful of fur or something if I slept on Peter.”

“I mean… if you start falling asleep when we’re out somewhere… It’d probably be for the best if you wrapped around me. So we don’t leave you behind or somethin’. Not that I’d do that,” Mike hastily clarified, “but with everything that’s happened… well… I’d hate to turn around and find you’d fallen asleep on the ground or somethin’.”

“Thanks for not leaving me in the middle of nowhere,” Micky smirked at him. He then took on a more serious expression.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I would just lie around on the ground.” he added. “It seems like whenever I feel sleepy, I want to be wrapped up around something….or have something surrounding me. It’s like I want…no, need…to latch onto something. Maybe it’s because of the kind of dragon I am? I don’t know.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense, considering how you wrapped around me that first time yesterday.” Mike mused.

“Yeah,” Micky shrugged again. “So I’d probably just latch onto a branch or something.”

Micky sniffed at the food again. He decided to retrieve his dish and take a couple bites before asking another question that had been bothering him.

“Um, Mike…what happened last night? You know, to that monster thing? Where did it go?”

“Uh…” Mike hesitated. “It sorta… exploded. One moment it was there, next thing I know there’s a flash of light and it’s raining bits of vine. I didn’t stick around to see what could do that.”

“Um ok,” Micky said, stunned. “You think it was one of the dragons? They’re supposed to have magical abilities around here. Maybe someone is looking out for us.”

At least, that’s what Micky wanted to think That someone was trying to help out. Another idea had occurred to him too. An outlandish, totally improbable idea. An idea that maybe, somehow, some way….he had had something to do with making the monster go away.

 _‘Nah, that’s ridiculous,’_ , he told himself. _‘There’s no way I could do something like that. It had to be someone…or something….else….’_

“Maybe.” Mike replied. The fact that something was able to reduce the vine creature to shreds like that… without laying a finger (or claw) on it…

How do you defend against something like that?

“Yeah, maybe,” Micky echoed. Then he went back to chomping down his food. The spice was hot, but not beyond what Micky enjoyed. Felara really was a great cook. More and more she seemed like so many of the Italian relatives who had visited his family when he was growing up.

It wasn’t long though before his mind shifted gears. It was possible that someone was looking out for them…but not likely. That just left the possibility that either he or Mike had gotten rid of that creature. Mike seemed to have no clue about it, so it probably wasn’t him.

But…if it wasn’t Mike…then that meant that he had been the one to do it. That he could make things explode.

And Micky wasn’t really convinced he even wanted that kind of power.


	31. Chapter 31

Mike absentmindedly scratched at his coat, straightening his short feathers with his claws. He quickly became distracted when he realized that he had clumps of feathers sticking up at all angles, and was soon absorbed in grooming them fastidiously back into place.

Micky smiled as he watched Mike preen, but he remained silent, still focused on eating. What would Mike think of him if the Texan knew that he could blow things up? What would Peter and Davy think? They’d probably all be scared of him. Heck, Micky was scaring himself with the thought of it.

The drummer took another huge mouthful. He knew it wasn’t good to dwell on stuff that probably wasn’t real, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when there weren’t any pleasant alternative theories.

Peter stretched lazily, accidentally bumping Davy with his wing. He smelled food. And oh look Mike and Micky were both up already! Mike had probably gotten the food then. It’s the sorta thing he would do. The real question though was what Micky was doing awake.

“Good morning guys! What’s for breakfast?” he asked cheerfully as he joined Mike and Micky at the table. Micky’s breakfast spontaneously acquires several long hairs.

“Hey Pete, watch what you’re doing with that fur,” Micky frowned. He picked the hairs out of his food and held them up to Mike.

“Look at this,” he said, waving them back and forth. “Man, we gotta do something about his shedding. Like get him shaved down or something.”

Another yawn came from where Davy was which was soon accompanied by a grumpy looking Skydancer joining the three of them around the food.

Peter gave Micky a hurt look. Mike gently cuffed Micky.

“We’re not going to _shave_ him. Maybe give him a trim, but not shave him.” He chuckled. “Besides, this is Peter we’re talking about. Nah, I’ll see if I can find him a brush or something. That sound good Pete?”

Peter nodded happily and started to dig into his food. As he did something occurred to him.

“Hey Davy! How’d your date go last night?” the Tundra asked.

Micky nearly choked on the bite in his mouth and had to swallow quickly to avoid gagging on it. Once it was down, he couldn’t resist cackling.

“Yes, Davy, tell Pete how your date was,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Meanwhile, Davy glared at all of them with a matching scowl on his face. Nearby, a candlewick suddenly acquired a robust flame. Mike puts his head in his hands. Peter looks confused.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Not if you want to hear something hilarious,” Micky giggled. “Go on, Davy. Tell him how it went.”

Davy continued to stare at Micky, his eyes blazing. Off to the side, the flame soon spread from the wick to the entire body of the candle.

Peter sneezes. Mike sniffs the air.

“The hell?” he wonders aloud. “What’s burning?” Peter points at the blazing candle. Mike leaps up with a look of panic, finds a bucket of water and extinguishes it before it spreads to the rest of the pad.

Peter blinks, but Mike seemed to have it under control.

“Well Davy? What happened?”

Micky laughed and took a huge bit to finish off his plate of food. He did wonder why that candle had caught on fire, but figured that it might have just been susceptible to the heat of the sunlight coming into the pad.

“Never mind,” Davy growled. He looked over the provisions that Mike had brought back to the pad. “Is there anything here that doesn’t have bugs in it?”

“Yea there should be… Oh yea. Here you go.” Mike hands Davy a package with the same contents as Peter’s meal.

“Thanks,” Davy said, sending Micky another glare before going off to the side to eat it. Micky just cackles again and goes to retrieve the leftover bug chips from the day before.

“Aw come on, Davy,” he said, throwing one up in the air and crunching on it loudly. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

There is a knock on the door. Mike investigates. Someone has left a small seashell sculpture there. Mike picks it up and brings it back to the table. There is no note, but there is a blue feather, of a shade Davy recognizes.

“Odd sort of housewarming gift.” Mike remarked. “There’s no note or anything. I wonder who made it?”

Davy frowned as he pulled the sculpture to him. Apparently there were no hard feelings between himself and Mnissath. On one hand, he figured that was a good thing. On the other, he didn’t know how good it was. Or how he should respond to this gift.

Micky studies it for a moment, admiring the skill that was clear in its construction. However, when he got a look at Davy’s face; inspiration hit him.

“Aw Davy, is this a gift from your boyfriend?”

“What?” Peter’s ears pricked up at this. “You have a boyfriend, Davy? How did that happen? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Davy glared even more at Micky. Soon, the candle started to smoulder again.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he fumed. “It was just a misunderstanding. Turns out he’s good natured bloke.”

“Right,” Micky grinned. “He seems awfully sweet on you. Man, it just wasn’t enough for you to get all the girls, was it?”

The candle burst into flames again.

Mike chuckles and shakes his head.

“He’s got you there Davy. Seems like being a dragon has only made you that much more irresistible.”

Peter extinguishes the candle with his winds before Mike realizes it’s lit again. There was something odd about the way the air was moving around Davy… as if he was giving off more heat than he should be.

“Davy are you feeling alright?”

“I would be fine if certain people would stop with their lame jokes,” Davy grumbled. He then picked up the statue. He decided that it was better off with his things than out here where the guys were going to keep commenting on it.

“Geez, touchy,” Micky shrugged. He threw a couple more bug chips in the air and snapped them up. “Hey, Mike, you should probably keep those candles out of this area. Seems like they keep lighting up for some reason.”

A couple moments later, Davy returned and glared at Micky one more time before going back to eating his breakfast. Micky chuckled and moved closer to Davy again.

“Come on, Davy leave a few for the rest of us,” he giggled.

At that Davy turned toward Micky with a fiery look in his eyes. Seconds later, a small fireball appeared and hit Micky.

“What the…?!” Mike yelped in surprise. “Micky! Are you ok?” He immediately began fussing over the drummer. “Are you hurt? Where did it come from did you see?”

“I think it was Davy.” Peter said.

Micky yelped and flew around, beating his larger wings against his body to try to put the flames out. Fortunately, it didn’t take very long. And what was left felt like the worst sunburn in the world rather than a life-threatening injury.

Not that Micky was going to point that out.

“Owowowowowow…OUCH!” he whimpered. “Hey, Davy that really hurt.”

“What?! What are you talking about?” Davy said, his mouth falling open. “What did I have to do with this?”

Micky whimpered again and hovered near Mike. He suddenly realized that he had immediately picked up on what Peter had said and agreed that it had to have been Davy. He wasn’t really sure why he was so ready to believe, but for some reason, the drummer was convinced that Peter might be onto something. A rarity in all of their lives.

Mike looked Micky over. It was hard to tell where Micky had been burned, what with the drummers crimson scales. They didn’t look too badly damaged, weren’t cracked or anything, so Mike relaxed a bit.

“Peter what makes you think Davy had anything to do with this?” he asked the fluffy bassist. Davy, calling fire? Sure, the fire had appeared almost in response to Micky’s jibe, and there was the matter of that candle that had been lit somehow, and yes, dragons were traditionally said to _breathe_ fire, but none of them were exactly what you would think of as ‘traditional’ dragons now were they.

“Well his hair’s on fire.” Peter replied, pointing to the small flame that burned on Davy’s mane. “But he doesn’t seem bothered by it.”


	32. Chapter 32

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Ember stuck a claw into the crucible to test the temperature. Hmm… Not quite there yet. She wiped the molten metal off of her claw and returned to crucible to the furnace. She would need to- huh? Was that fire magic she felt? That couldn’t be right. She was the only Fire dragon in the clan. And she confined her workings to the forge. The danger of forest fires was far too high to do it elsewhere.

She had just about managed to convince herself that she had imagined it when another flare of magic touched her senses. It was definitely fire magic. She began to run. Whoever it was had very little control. She had to intervene before the Clan was burned to the ground by some careless idiot.

* * *

“What?!?” Davy gasped. He immediately beat the fire out with a wing. However, once he had a few seconds to think about it, he realized that it hadn’t hurt at all.

Curious to know how far he could take it; Davy focused his annoyance at Micky toward the candle again. And once again, the candle lit up.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool…ouch,” Micky added. “Come on, help out the injured man here.” He whimpered pitifully again, hoping it would inspire someone to tend to him.

WHAM!

“All right which of you blithering idiots is using Fire magic in a Nature clan?” Ember snarled as she slammed the door open. “I could feel it halfway across the Clan! You know how DANGEROUS that is?” She glared at the four drakes. She didn’t know them, although she recognized the Wildclaw from earlier when she’d seen him getting food.

“Hang on, who are you?” Davy huffed. “Bursting in here like that….what gives you the right?”

“It’s ok,” Micky jabbered, clearly nervous. “He didn’t burn anything. Well just a candle. And, um, me…but still…..”

Ember grunted and pitched a jar of something at Mike.

“Here. Put this on him. It should help,” she said.

Mike caught it, too surprised to react otherwise.

“Uh… that’s very kind of you… uh… sir?” Mike tentatively replied. “I… I hope that’s right.” He genuinely had no idea what the dragon’s gender was. The jar had some sort of ointment in it. He motioned to Micky to come closer so he could apply it.

“As for what gives me the right, little one…. I am Ember. Forge Mistress of the Clan. I have been here since the very beginning. And I am the ONLY ONE who can teach you control.” she growled at the Skydancer. “You are a DANGER to this Clan, and I cannot let that pass.”

Davy scowled at the quandary he found himself in. On one hand, he didn’t like the condescending attitude Ember was showing toward him. On the other, the fact that she was a “she” triggered his usual chivalrous instincts toward women.

“Look, um, Mistress Ember,” he said. “I’m sorry if I bothered you, but it’s no big deal, really. I didn’t even know I could use fire until a few seconds ago. And I’m not keen on making a habit of it. I’m just a regular person not a menace.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s no danger, honest,” Micky said, wincing as he nodded a little too vigorously. “Uh, Mike, could you um….?” He gestured to the jar of ointment in Mike’s hands.

Mike nodded and began to dab the ointment onto Micky’s scales.

“Tell me if I miss any spots, ok babe?” he asked.

Ember stared at Davy, her four eyes expressionless.

“You’re shitting me.” she said flatly. “A nearly full grown dragon and you only just discovered you can use fire? No. No that’s impossible. You’re way too hot to be left alone. It’s a wonder you haven’t burned this place down already!”

Mike looked up from his ministrations.

“Uh, well with respect ma’am we only got here yesterday.” Ember turned her stare onto him.

“So what?”

“Er… what I mean is… we’re not from here.” Mike tried to explain.

“I would have _never_ guessed.” Ember responded with heavy sarcasm.

“No… I mean… we’re not from this planet. We’re not dragons.” Ember stared at him.

“You coulda fooled me.” she replied.

“Thanks babe,” Micky sighed. The ointment did feel good as Mike put it on and made the burns feel a lot less inflamed.

“He’s telling the truth,” Davy said. “We’re not like you lot. We’re from Earth and somehow we got sent here. And turned into dragons. We didn’t even know dragons existed until yesterday. At least, outside a storybook. We’re people. You know, humans.”

Davy rubbed his face. He could feel his frustration mounting again, but tried to make sure it didn’t bubble up too much. The last thing he needed was for something to start smoking and prove Ember’s point.

“Look, if you don’t believe us, go ask Mnissath,” he added. “He’ll tell you. He showed me some kind of picture or something in a lake of what we really look like.”

“No, I don’t know what ‘humans’ are. And perhaps I will talk to Mnissath. Later. But first, _if_ what you’re saying is true, and you weren’t dragons before… then you don’t know control. And for a Fire dragon in a Nature clan, particularly one as hot as you are, that can spell _disaster_. You need. To come. With me. NOW.”

Mike bristled slightly at her tone. He stepped forwards.

“Now hold on a minute. Where exactly are you planning on taking him?” he demanded.

“Oh for fucks sake…” Ember sighed, rubbing her face in exasperation. “I’m taking him to the forge. Or in other words, the one place he can practice Fire magic WITHOUT burning the Clan down.”

“But, but does he have to?” Micky asked. “Couldn’t he just…not use his magic?”

As soon as he asked that, Micky was certain what Ember would say. That it wasn’t possible. That no matter how much Davy might not want to use his magic; it would probably slip out anyway. Davy probably didn’t have much choice in the matter.

And if that was true for Davy….

Micky gulped. He thought again about the vine monster from last night. If he actually did that, if he was the one who made it go away like that…what if he slipped up at some point?

“It’s ok, Mike,” Davy sighed. “I’ll go ahead and go and see what’s going on. But can we stop by and see Felara first? I just want to tell her that I might be a lil’ late helping her out like I promised I would.”

“Um, Ember,” Micky gulped, his voice quaking. “What you said…about control…uh…is that true for every dragon? I mean, can’t some just not use their magic or get rid of it?”

“It depends on the magic, it depends on the dragon…” Ember sighed. “I’m just a craftsdrake. I make things for the Clan. Magic theory is not my specialty.” She shrugged. “Look. He could try not to use his magic, but unless he’s had practice it’s gonna slip out. And when a Fire dragon with poor control gets upset in a NATURE clan…” She conjured a brief flash of fire to her upraised palm. “Fwoom.”

Mike frowned.

“Is somethin’ bothering you Micky?”

Davy blinked in surprised. Truthfully, he was impressed by the display of fire magic and wondered if he could learn to do similar things.

“All right,” he said.”I want to learn. Just let me stop by Felara’s and then I’ll go with you.”

Meanwhile, Micky shuddered at Mike’s question. All Davy managed to do with his mistakes was light a candle on fire. Whereas Micky was becoming increasingly convinced that he had made a living creature explode. And with the little things that Davy did, Ember considered Davy a threat.

What would the other dragons think if they knew what he had done?

“N-n-nothing,” Micky stuttered, backing away. “I’m fine.”

Ember eyed him suspiciously. She sniffed the air.

“Wait a minute… It was you that obliterated that Vine Fiend, wasn’t it. Saved me a lot of work you did.”

Mike looked blank.

“Vine fiend? You mean that plant thing that tried to kill us?”

“Over in that direction? Yeah that’s the one. Nasty thing. Wouldn’t listen when Chloreth politely asked it to move so she asked me to take care of it. ‘Burn that bastard to the ground’ I believe was her exact request.”

“You’re saying MICKY destroyed it?”

“Yeah. You couldn’t have done it like that, and your scents are the only ones I found there so…”

“I didn’t mean it!” Micky blurted out. “I,I…I was just scared and I thought it was going to hurt Mike. And I, I…I just wanted it to go away. I didn’t mean to kill it. I…I didn’t even know what I was doing. I’m sorry.”

Micky swallowed hard, his throat tight. He didn’t want to think about what Mike must be thinking about him right now. Or Davy or Peter either for that matter. But he couldn’t avoid what he was thinking about himself. About the fact that he had killed something because he couldn’t control his magic. Magic that he didn’t even know he had. Magic that he didn’t even understand.

“Kid, relax. It needed to be destroyed anyway. It wouldn’t have hesitated to tear you to pieces. It wasn’t even properly alive. It certainly wasn’t capable of reason, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her voice softened. “You were scared for your life. So your magic lashed out to protect you. That’s ok. It happens. You’re not gonna go around blowing things up at random. Even if you did you’d do far less damage than this one could.” She sighed. “Can we get going already? I have things to do.”

Mike was silent. Micky had exploded that thing? That was unsettling. But then again, he had, according to Ember, saved both of their lives. His tail twitched. Peter batted at it playfully.

Micky shrugged and nodded his head. He was somewhat relieved that his act of self-defense was probably warranted and unavoidable. Still, it was hard to think about having so much power…and not even knowing what it was and how he was supposed to use it. Despite Ember’s reassurances, his anxiety continued to spike.

“All right, we’ll get going,” Davy offered. “Take it easy, Mike, Micky, and Peter. I’ll be back soon.”

Davy moved over to Ember to follow her out of the pad. He wasn’t entirely sure of what he was going to learn from her, but he was determined to control this new ability of his.

Davy hesitated though when he saw books and several figurines suddenly float upward and then fall to the floor.

“What…what was that?”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Ember’s tail waved dismissively. “Your friend’s magic is just responding to his getting worked up. It happens. However, unlike you, his magic isn’t going to burn down the clan. Now will you hurry up?” she growled. Mike was going to say something, but Peter distracted him.

“Peter will you come out from under there? My tail is not a toy for crying out loud.” He stepped away from the table, dragging out Peter from underneath. Peter was hanging on to the end of Mike’s tail, looking very pleased with himself.

“Wait a minute…that stuff flying around…that’s Micky too?!” Davy replied shocked. “No never mind, I’m going. See you guys later.”

Davy walked out of the pad behind Ember leaving an even more confused Micky behind.


	33. Chapter 33

The drummer struggled to process what Ember had just implied. So…he was making stuff fly around the pad too? He thought back to the previous day when he was trying to help Mike move the heavy crates around and realized that there had to be a connection. It must have been magic that helped him lift the boxes up.

All of this left Micky with even more questions. Like just what exactly was his magic? Or could he even learn to control it?

And…do all of them have some kind of magic?

“Peter have you been paying attention at all?” Mike asked with exasperation.

“Huh? Oh sure. Davy has fire magic, right? And Micky blew something up last night.” He sounded completely unconcerned. “Did you know that your tail twitches when you’re annoyed?” he asked as he released Mike’s tail. Mike pulled it away. Peter pounced on it again.

“Peter.” Mike said. This was getting ridiculous.

“Hmm?” Peter looked up from the floor.

“Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” Peter released Mike’s tail and trotted over to investigate the objects that had fallen to the floor, batting them with one paw.

Micky snorted. He wasn’t that surprised that Peter was so nonchalant about all these revelations. But something about how easy-going the bassist was being about it made Micky suspicious.

“Pete….have you been using magic?”

“Sure.” Peter replied, looking up. Mike stared at him.

“Peter… why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

“It didn’t seem like a big deal.” Peter said with a shrug.

“Not a big deal!?” Micky spluttered. “Pete….are you kidding? Of course it’s a big deal. You could have blown something up or set something on fire too, ya know.”

Micky looped about nervously. He was still anxious that he wouldn’t be able to control his newly discovered abilities. Sadly, this also meant that more stuff flew off the shelves and onto the floor.

“It’s just wind.” Peter said, shrugging again. His eyes glowed pale green as he frowned in concentration. The falling objects slowed and landed gently. He beamed. A gust of wind blew over Mike and Micky. Mike shivered. Peter suppressed a giggle.

“Er… sorry about that Mike.”

“Huh?” Mike looked down at himself. Oh. Well. This was embarrassing.

Micky blinked in surprise. Despite the worries building inside him, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of him.

Mike had suddenly become fluffy. True, Micky was aware that the Texan was covered in feathers. He knew that from snuggling up against him. Still, they weren’t really that noticeable when looking at him from even a short distance, other than the ones on his head. But Peter’s gust of wind had poofed them out all over Mike.

Micky’s smile grew. Mike looked so cute with his floofy body and a grumpy expression on his face. But the drummer knew better than to say so out loud.

Mike glowered. He felt ridiculous. Flattening them with his hands had no effect, they just sprang right back up again.

“Why me?” he muttered. His feathers soon flattened back down, though they were still a bit ruffled. That annoyed him, and he started preening again, shooting the odd dirty look at Peter as he did so.

Micky tried his best to not giggle although he knew he wasn’t being entirely successful. Mike looked so soft and fluffy, he just wanted to curl up against and bury his face into Mike’s chest.

“Um... babe? Do you need some help?”

“I’m fine Mick.” Mike said, finishing up. There is a knock at the door. Mike opened it and beheld a small purple and blue dragon bedecked in subtle orange jewelry that matched the spines along her back. The fins on her head flicked.

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3003136)

“I thought there were four of you.” it said. Mike blinked.

“Err, well, Davy’s with this Ember person learning magic.” The dragon’s voice was flat and monotonous. It was really rather unsettling.

“Ah. I see. I am Deires. I am the founder and matriarch of this Clan.” She continued to speak in that flat voice, but the fins on her head flicked and waved animatedly in a curious contrast.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Micky said, still wincing as he moved. This new dragon was strange and Micky found himself hovering closer to Mike as she entered the pad.

“I wish to welcome you to my Clan.” She flew closer to Mike, hovering close to his face. “Hold still.” Mike leaned back slightly. “I said hold still.”

“What are you doing ma’am?” he asked warily. He didn’t like having someone this close to his face. The urge to snap at her with his teeth was strong.

“I am marking you as belonging here. Should you leave the territory, this sign will allow you to return unchallenged. The wards will recognize you.” She did the same to Micky and Peter.

“Oh um, thanks,” Micky said with a smile. It was nice that the dragons were trying so hard to make them feel welcome. To varying degrees anyway.

“Say, um, if you don’t mind me asking,” he continued. “Do all the dragons around here use magic?”

“To one degree or another, yes. Now if you will excuse me I must see Ember about your friend. Unless you have more questions.”

“Uh, I guess mainly just one,” Micky said. “Ember is helping Davy out with his fire magic thing. Are there…well, do you know if anyone could help the rest of us out? With our magic, I mean. ‘Cause, we haven’t been dragons for very long, ya know.”

“Blutigenacht mentioned something of the sort. That you are not from Sornieth. There are indeed dragons that can help you. Anyone with the same colored eyes has the same magic. They should be happy to help. Gladekeepers blessings.” She flew off.

“She seemed nice.” Peter observed once Deires left.

“Speak for yourself. I felt sure she was gonna tell us we broke some sorta important rule.” Mike sighed.

“Aw, she was ok,” Micky said. “I’ve got an aunt like her. Aunt Evelyn. She’d always tell the weirdest stories, but she was nice in her own way.”

Micky scurried around the pad restlessly. Based on what Deires had said, he figured he could go to Zelioth to get some information about his magic.

He then wondered what kind of magic Mike would end up having.

Mike was still a bit thrown off by Deires’ stare. Emerald green eyes completely devoid of expression boring into him. She spoke like a machine too. The only thing that convinced Mike that she was not, in fact, some sort of magical construct was the grace and elegance with which she moved her frills.

“So. What are y'all’s plans for today?” he asked them as he tidied up after breakfast.

“I don’t know,” Micky shrugged. “I think maybe I’ll go see Zelioth again.”

If he was honest with himself, Micky would admit that maybe what he should do first is have a talk with Mike to make sure the Texan was ok and see if the two of them were ok as well. Instead, Micky pushed that idea to the back of his mind. Things seemed all right for the moment. And if he could delay a conversation like that, he was more than willing to.

“Hey Mike, you…you think you might try to find someone who can help you out? You know with…whatever kind of magic you have?”

“What? Oh, yea sure, I guess.” Mike wasn’t planning on it. While yes, he did want to know what he had… he was also still shaken up. He hadn’t noticed anything magical happening around him that couldn’t be put down to paranoia or an overactive imagination. Better take it one step at a time. His magic hadn’t done any harm. Yet. He’d worry about it later, once he’d gotten more comfortable with his new…. body…..

With an effort of will he squashed the panic rising within him, letting out a slight growl. Micky didn’t need any more reason to worry about him.

“How about you Pete?”

“I was just gonna look around.”

“Groovy. Try not to get lost.”

Micky watched Mike for a moment. The Texan still seemed off to him, but then again, maybe that was just his own nerves getting to him. Maybe both of them needed time on their own to sort stuff out.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

Micky flew out of the pad, still unsure if he was doing the right thing leaving Mike alone.

Peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave Mike alone either, but he was also feeling restless with the desire to explore. Oh! Of course.

“Hey, Mike, you wanna go explore with me?” he asked the Texan. Mike liked going for walks. True, he might not be feeling up to it, but Peter hoped he would be. Exploring was no fun without someone to share your discoveries with. He also hoped it would distract Mike from whatever was bothering him. He was determined to help any way he could.

Mike glanced at the bassist with surprise. Peter beamed at him hopefully,

“I suppose I’d better, if only to make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble.” If there were any givens in life it was that 1, if there was a pretty girl Davy would fall in love with her, and 2, if there was any trouble to be found, Peter would find it.


	34. Chapter 34

“All right short stuff. Get in.” Ember said, pointing to the furnace.

Davy bristled. “’Short stuff?’ What’s that supposed to mean? And you want me to get in there? You must be joking.”

Ember gave him a Look.

“You want to learn fire magic? First you gotta learn fire. The best way to do that is to surround yourself with it. Get in.”

Davy peered into the furnace and made a face. There was a thick layer of soot covering the inside with ashes continuing to scatter. He’d be filthy in seconds if he got in.

“Couldn’t I just set myself on fire? That is, if all we need is for me to be surrounded by flames; I don’t see why we couldn’t do it out here.”

“I am not being paid enough to deal with this.” Ember mutters. Actually she wasn’t being paid at all, but that was beside the point. “Look. The fire needs to be non-magical in origin. If I just set you on fire it won’t have quite the same effect, because it will be feeding off magic instead of proper fuel. Now. Are you going to get in or am I going to have to stuff you in there myself?”

Davy scowled. He admired her spirit, but disliked her rudeness. Not to mention how much he knew he was going to hate getting so dirty.

“All right,” he finally huffed. “You sure I don’t have to do anything to prevent getting burned up?”

Ember snaps her fingers and a column of fire roars into existence briefly around Davy.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Davy sighed. He knew that he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point and slowly eased himself into the furnace. The instant he stepped in, soot started to gather on his wings despite his valiant efforts to brush it away.

“Hey, how long do I have to be in here anyway?”

“Until I say so.” Ember replied, pumping the bellows. Flames roared into life around the small Skydancer as the Mirror worked, shoveling coal to stoke the blaze.

“Now.” Ember hissed with a voice like her namesake. “Relax. Breathe. You are fire. Fire burns inside you just as it does outside. Do you feel it? The power of the Flamecaller?”

* * *

At first, Davy had no idea what she was talking about. He was too busy trying to avoid too much soot from building up on him.

As the flames grew higher though, Davy soon became aware of a new sensation filling him. The best way he could describe it was passion, but not like he had known it before. This wasn’t the passion of falling in love or becoming enraged. It was deeper than that. It spilled out from every atom of his being. Flame upon flame with the heat building up from within.

“Many believe that fire is an element of destruction. They are not wrong. Fire has great potential for chaos. To spread unchecked, uncontrolled, devouring all in its path.

Such fires do not last. They consume everything, and when there is nothing left to burn… they are extinguished. And all is ashes and dust.”

Ember sat with her eyes closed, meditating. Fire bloomed around her as it did Davy, though these flames were of her own creation. She spoke the words that had been spoken to her as a child in the Ashfall Wastes. Words which conjured up visions of devastation, vast blackened expanses where once there was vibrant grasslands and forests.

“But. That is not the end. It cannot be the end. For fire is also an element of creation. Even after such destruction, all is not lost. Life returns to the landscape. The soil is enriched and grows new plants from the seeds that escaped the blaze. Animals return. The fire is within them. They remember. And they survive.

Fire burns within all of us. Even the coldest Ice dragon has that spark of fire in them.

Fire is civilization. The cookpot bubbling on the hearth. The tools forged in fire and tempered to be stronger than the ores from which they came. The emotion that stirs within us, driving us onward.

But it is not to be taken lightly!

Fire is chaos.

But it can also bring order.”

* * *

Davy was listening to Ember and yet he wasn’t.

It was more like her words seeped into his brain like water into a sponge. He was definitely absorbing the essence of what she was saying, but he was also busy sorting through the sensations he had as the flames enveloped his body.

In his mind’s eye, he could see the charred lands that she described. The destruction. The devastation. He had always thought of fire as something bad if it got beyond a few small flames. But now he felt as if he better understood that old tale of mythology about the phoenix. Fire could also be renewal. The brushing aside of the dried, twisted, useless parts of things. Of living beings.

Something beautiful could come forth from the inferno.

“Through fire, things can become better, stronger. Fire binds us together. A clan gathered around the hearth shares strength and community, just as weaker metals can be combined to form strong alloys. The whole can be greater than the sum of its parts.

Now. Open your eyes. You can feel the power, yes? Create an image in the flames. You can do it. Use that power, and guide the flames into the image you desire.”

Davy blinked slowly several times. By now the soot was completely forgotten. All he could focus on was surge of power inside him that had become more of a pulse. Regular and measured. It was like slow breathing. It was natural and instinctive, but he could control it. He was so much more aware of it.

His mind flew with flashes of images within the flames. But eventually, he was able to give some form to it. Albeit not a form that he had actually seen in his regular life. It was made of stars. Like the stars that shone in his eyes when he fell in love. The stars danced and coalesced over and over. It took a few moments for Davy to realize what it was.

It was music.

Ember peered into the furnace to see if Davy had succeeded. Her eyes widened.

“Incredible…” she whispered. She had never seen anything like it.

Davy opened his eyes at the wisp of a voice that entered the furnace.

However, he couldn’t see Ember beyond the flame images he had created. Sparks were weaving a silent melody while the ashes fell around him with a rhythmic patter. The flames bound the two together, ensuring that they remained cohesive and did not drown each other out. Curls of fire flowed through the spark showers and soot clouds.

This was the order in the chaos that Ember was talking about. It had to be.

And in that moment, Davy wanted to dance. 

The rhythmic crackle of the flames surrounding Davy continued for several more minutes before finally drifting into roaring chaos again. Davy shook himself, dismayed at the soot clouds he was generating.

“Hey Ember…what am I supposed to be doing now? Can I come out yet?”

“Yeah, you can come out. You did well, Davy.” Ember said thoughtfully. “You did very well.”


	35. Chapter 35

Micky stared in awe of the trees as he flew toward Zelioth’s place.

He had seen trees many times back home. One time, his mom had taken him and his sister Coco to see the giant redwoods and he had thought that they stretched into forever.

But it was a whole different sensation to be flying among the high branches. Now that he was starting to get more comfortable with flight; Micky could appreciate the new and exciting perspective that he got in the air. It was something he was certain he wouldn’t tire of no matter how long they were here.

He eventually moseyed his way to Zelioth’s and hovered outside the entrance. “Um…hello?”

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3135657)

Nisha looped down to investigate the Spiral nosing around Zelioth’s den. She draped herself over a branch and watched him for a few moments before sliding off and flying closer.

“Zel’s not in right now. Whatcha wanna see him for?” she asked curiously. “Say, you’re one of those drakes that arrived yesterday! And you’re Arcane too! Cool! Hey is that why you want to see Zel? ‘Cuz I can help with that too!” She sketched a diagram lightning quick.

A fish materialized and landed on the branch below.

“Ooops. No not ‘fish’…” Her tail drew a diagram over the fish as she sketched another diagram in the air. The fish vanished. A scroll materialized in the air in front of her and she unrolled it. “Ah! Here we go! Certificate of Arcane Training! Wait. No. Drat. This is just a star chart. Oh well.” The chart vanished in a puff of smoke.

“I’m Nisha. Who are you?”

Micky’s eyes widened as he watched her magic at work. Once she was done, he grinned and flew over to her.

“I’m Micky,” he said. “Micky Dolenz. Hey, you’re a Spiral too. And an Arcane. That’s groovy. How’d you do all that stuff? Is that what Arcane means? I thought it just meant blowing stuff up.”

Micky abruptly frowned at that. He still wasn’t comfortable with exploding a living creature. Even if it was mindless and ready to tear him to pieces. Only the fact that it would have hurt Mike eased his feelings over it.

The drummer shook his head. He was glad he met up with Nisha because now he could get some more answers about his magic and what it meant to be a Spiral. Not to mention that she seemed like a really cool person to hang out with.

Thus, he had no problem beginning one of his usual streams of chatter.

“So um, Nisha what is Arcane anyway? And are you into the stars too? Have you slept in walls before? Where did that fish go….?”

“Oh the fish went back to storage. I think. I might have missed. That’s what happens when you blind summon. Without a corresponding magic circle at the receiving end there’s no guarantee it will go exactly where you want it to go. Who doesn’t love the stars? They’re so sparkly! Well, while blowing stuff up can be really fun… there is so much more you can do when you can warp the fabric of the universe!” She gestured and shot a bolt of some sort of energy at the branch. It turned orange.

“I can do more but Chloreth hates it when I randomly transmute trees and plants. She says it messes with the natural order. I say that’s the entire point! Then she strung me up with vines. That wasn’t fun. Then she ate all my favorite bugs.”

“Oh man, that’s not cool at all,” Micky nodded. “My friend Davy, he’s supposed to eat bugs, but he won’t, so I get have all his bug chips and casseroles. That’s mean to take them away though like that.”

Micky grinned some more. He already liked Nisha. She was friendly and didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the scattershot style of conversation he preferred.

“I think I figured out how to move stuff around,” he declared. He turned his focus to a stick on the ground. Slowly it floated up a couple of inches before dropping back down. “So, uh, how long do you think it will take me to learn other stuff? Oh and do you know much about machines around here?”

“Oh! You’re looking for a teacher? I can do that! Zelioth would probably agree. Since you’re also a Spiral you’ll learn better when I teach anyway. So it’ll be fun! What do you want to learn? Or, what do you know already? That’s probably a better question. Considering your levitation attempt I would say not much. But we can fix that!”

Micky was momentarily dismayed that his attempt to move the stick was seen as rudimentary, but the prospect of doing the kinds of stuff he had just seen Nisha do was more than enough to lift his mood.

“I want to learn everything,” he said, beaming. “How to move stuff around better. How to make stuff appear and disappear. How to make things turn color. And, and anything else that I’m not thinking of.”

Suddenly, his mind shifted back to Mike and the issues they had had recently and another important question came to mind.

“Hey, um, Nisha, how do you find a Napping Buddy?”

“A Napping Buddy? Well they have to be someone you trust with your life. Someone who you know will protect you when you fall asleep. It’s not a decision to be made lightly. Why do you ask? Are you looking for one?”

“Well, I might be looking for one,” Micky said nervously. “I thought maybe I had one but um…I don’t think he’s really happy about doing it. And he’s got his own things to worry about so….”

Micky shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t want to speak badly of Mike. It wasn’t like he was upset with the Texan or anything. Still, as much as Micky was ok with sleeping in a wall, he was already certain he’d be happier slumbering around another dragon.

“How did you find one?” he asked. “I mean, did you ask around or….if you’re ok with telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

“Actually I don’t have one… although Zelioth lets me sleep on him if i fall asleep in the middle of an experiment. I usually just wrap myself around a branch somewhere out of the way.”

“Oh,” Micky replied. “Oh ok. I see. Yeah, I tried sleeping in a wall. It’s ok. It wasn’t too bad, actually.”

The drummer was dismayed, but tried to hide his disappointment. Nisha said that Zelioth would sometimes let her sleep on him. So maybe it would just be a matter of making some more friends around here so he could find someone to sleep on more regularly. Until then…he’d have to make do with the wall.

“Hey, you got any tips for helping me get better at moving stuff around?”

“Practice! Just keep orking at it and yoy cn lihfrt…” She yawns massively. “strongrr… mag’kll…“ she goes limp and falls, lashing herself around a branch below Micky.

Micky blinked in surprised as he watched Nisha fall asleep around the branch. Until she started talking strangely, he had had no idea that she was so close to needing a nap. He now had a better understanding of why the guys were so concerned when it hit him so abruptly.

 _‘It really does hit you without warning,’_ he mused. _‘Maybe I should try something like that.’_

Micky wrapped himself around a branch not too far from Nisha. The problem was that he wasn’t really tired yet. Still, he figured it might happen soon. So he decided to hang around and see what might happen.

In the meantime, he would get back to practicing making things move….


	36. Chapter 36

Davy stepped out of the oven, a grin on his face.

“Well, I had a marvelous teacher, so that is not surprising,” he said to her. “Thank you for taking the time to work with me.”

It was easy to be charming with the feelings that were still coursing through him. He felt rejuvenated, energized. At that moment, he felt more alive than he had in quite a while.

Then he got a look at his body.

“Oh I’m a right mess,” he grumbled. He flapped his wings furiously trying to beat away some of the soot that was caked all over them.

Ember snorted with laughter.

“You realize that I’m not gonna go easy on you no matter how much you flatter me. But thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve had to teach anyone. Oh, I’ve got a brush somewhere you can use to knock the worst of the soot off.” She disappeared into one of the structures nearby, returning with a wire brush. The wires had the same consistency as a normal bristle brush. It was just less flammable.

“This should help clean up your feathers and coat. A dust bath also helps.”

“Dust bath?” Davy echoed. “Wouldn’t that make me even more dirty?” He took a few swipes with his brush, pleased at how well it was taking off some of the grime. “Thanks for this though. You’re right, it is helping.”

Davy continued to brush. He was always fastidious about his appearance and worried that lessons with Ember were going to make it challenging for him to remain well groomed and dressed.

“Actually it doesn’t. The dust helps scrub off the soot from the harder to reach places, and it helps redistribute the oils in your coat from what I understand. Makes your feathers nice and shiny. The key is that it has to be dry. Your Wildclaw friend would benefit from regular dust baths too.”

“All right, I’ll give it a whirl,” Davy said with a shrug. “Is there something I should be doing when I’m not here with you. To get better with my magic, that is?”

“You know the feeling of your magic now. That’s important. Be aware of how it changes as you go about your day, what makes it flare up. And when it does flare up, keep ahold of it! Don’t let it slip out of your grasp. Because that’s how forest fires start. Now, I think you’ve cooled off enough… Deires is just gonna give you a mark to let you through the wards, and we’ll be done for now.”

A small dragon flies down and traces a symbol over Davy’s forehead.

“I have already given this mark to your friends. It is merely to allow the wards to recognize you. If you should stray beyond the boundaries of the Clan this will ensure that you can return safely. Gladekeeper’s blessings.”

“Oh um, thank you….ma’am,” Davy said, hoping that he got it right this time. He bowed his head a little after she was done and watched her flutter around.

_‘Seems nice enough…but she’s a weird one….’_

Davy brushed at his body for a few more minutes before wishing Ember well and taking off. He still felt rather dirty, but he hoped that flying around might remove more of the grime from his body.

As he flew he spotted Felara’s place and decided to stop by.

Felara saw the Skydancer touch down and went to greet him.

“Ah! Davy! I was hoping you’d stop by.” She chuckled at the soot still clinging to him. “You still wish to help out? Ember hasn’t left you unable to stand? Because I’ve got a roast in the oven ready to go… only the oven’s gone cold, and I accidentally spilled a bucket of water everywhere so the coal’s all soaked. And I did promise Blutigenacht I would have his roast ready today…”

“Nah, I’m ok,” Davy grinned at her. “Ember’s all right. And I learned some interesting things. So…you need help with the oven, right?”

Davy peered inside. Truthfully, he wasn’t keen on getting back into another oven and getting dirty again. Not to mention how the session with Ember had taken its toll on him physically and mentally. Still, he wanted to help her out and figured that he wouldn’t have to be as artful with his flames if it was just for cooking.

“Right, I’ll see what I can do.”


	37. Chapter 37

Micky was making progress.

Not only had he learned to levitate the branch all the way up to where he was; he also figured out how to make more than one thing float at the same time. Soon, he was playing around with it. Making rocks swirl around in a circle. Playing Hangman with sticks. Having feathers dance around into various shapes. He couldn’t wait for Nisha to wake up so he could show her what he had learned.

But by now, Micky becoming a bit bored and wondered if there was something else he could do. He looked around the trees and up to the sky. It was a nice day out.

Perhaps some exploring was in order.

* * *

Peter bounded out of the pad, massive paws pounding the moss covered ground. What a wonderful day! Not too warm, sunny, the air filled with scent and sound. His wings bore him upwards onto a branch above the pad and he flopped there, grinning, as he waited for Mike to follow.

“Hey Mike! Are you coming?”

“Peter? Where did you go?” Mike asked as he looked around. He didn’t see the bassists sandy fur anywhere.

“Up here Mike!” Mike looked up, and sure enough, there he was, sitting on one of the branches that crisscrossed the clan and served as a second, and third, and fourth level. There was a lot more to the clan than what was just at ground level.

The branch that Peter perched on arced over the pad. Mike climbed up the rise that the pad was built half into so he could be on the same level as Peter. To his surprise he found that a number of the trunks twisted together to form a walkway that connected to the other trees that made up the Clan’s home.

It was brighter up here, though the many layers of canopy still obscured the sky. Instead, there were orbs of light like miniature suns set at intervals, often near places where many plants grew.

Peter trotted over to one nearby orb and sniffed at it. It was warm, with a gentle radiant heat. It smelled a little like that orange dragon that had yelled at Davy. There was also another scent that he didn’t recognize in it, but then he was still learning. There were lots of scents he didn’t recognize. Maybe that was the person who made it he smelled.

He plucked a leaf off the plant and ate it. Tasty! And hey! A feather! It was bright red. He flew back to where Mike was standing to show him his find.

Mike was startled when Peter spread his wings and flew back to him. He’d never considered that Peter would fly… which was ridiculous. He had wings too.

“Whatcha got there Shotgun?” Peter held out his feather proudly. “Very nice.” Peter beamed, then, to Mike’s dismay, tucked it in among the feathers already covering Mike.

“Come on Mike! Don’t you want to see what it looks like from up here?” Peter asked, nudging against Mike’s legs, before getting distracted by a butterfly. He started chasing after it. Then he tripped, startling a bird.

The bird shrieked alarm and zoomed past Mike’s head. Mike flinched, snapped at it without thinking… and warm blood spurted in his mouth as he caught it. A couple feathers floated to the ground as he swallowed. He was more startled than anything else. He remembered the entire encounter. He chose to be relieved about that. It had been a purely reflexive action. Just… offensive instead of defensive. It was no different than the lizards he’d had last night. No different. He followed after Peter.

As he stepped onto the branchways he again felt that sense of unease. He shook his head and put it down to the bird he’d just eaten.

Peter watched Mike traverse the branches curiously. He didn’t seem to like being off the ground. Interesting.

“Hey Mike look at this!” The bassist was sniffing at a plant. The plant wasn’t actually that interesting, but it had been planted in a hollow that had been filled with soil. He had an idea…

Mike approached Peter slowly, his claws gripping the bark. He had just about reached him when the sky grew dark and it began to rain. It hissed down through the canopy, dripping off leaves. He flinched as the water hit him, fluffing up his feathers.

Peter looked over to see Mike huddled under a branch, looking absolutely miserable. Oh. Maybe he should have mentioned it was going to rain. It was a warm rain, but that didn’t seem to make much difference to Mike.

“Hey, Mike, you ok?” he asked, concerned. Mike shook his head. Peter frowned, and extended his winds around Mike to deflect the rain off of him as well. “We can explore later if you want.” 

They arrive back at the pad. Mike shakes most of the water off before rubbing himself down with some clean dry rags. His feathers were still puffed up, but he didn’t really pay attention to that, instead he mopped up the floor.

It was raining, which meant that 1, Davy would be home soon and grumbling about the rain, and 2, Micky would be back dripping wet and probably covered in mud. So he should put the kettle on for hot water and make sure there were fresh towels.

“Peter, where’s the kettle? Did Micky ‘borrow’ it again without asking?”

“What kettle?” Peter was confused. They didn’t have a kettle here. There was nowhere to heat it up.

“Peter I’m serious. Where did Micky leave the kettle?”

“Mike we don’t have a kettle here.” Peter repeated, growing concerned.

* * *

Micky continued to float through the branches of the trees, his eyes open wide with awe. It really was lovely up here, looking at all the plants, animals and insects. He could coast along with the birds or zip to catch the stray bug for a quick snack. There were a couple of times when the thick branches threatened to tangle him up, but the drummer soon learned how to weave his way through them smoothly.

He was so fascinated by the wildlife around him, he didn’t notice how tired he was getting until his flying started to get more erratic. Rather than risk falling out of the sky again, he decided to follow Nisha’s example and wrap himself around a sturdy tree branch.

Soon, he spotted what he thought was the perfect tree. It had green speckles and flowers near the top. He made a beeline for it, determined to coil up around it before he passed out.

* * *

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19495856)

Larisa blinked in confusion as a crimson Spiral she didn’t know wrapped himself around her neck and fell asleep.

“Does he think I am tree?” she asked her toad companion. “Because he has Nap Buddy. I saw him this morning around shamrock Wildclaw getting food.”

She rose and went to ask Felara where to find the Wildclaw as the rain began to fall. Having the spiral wrapped around her, fast asleep, made her rather uncomfortable. Particularly since she didn’t know him. Nor did she wish to offend the Wildclaw.

Felara looked up as the tree Guardian approached, rather surprised to see that Micky was wrapped around Larisa’s neck.

“I thought Mike was his napping buddy?” she wondered. “Hello Larisa, what brings you here?”

“I seek Wildclaw. This Spiral, he belongs with him, yes? He fall asleep on me. He probably think I am tree. I do not mean to offend Wildclaw. Do you know where he is?”

“Oh I think they’re living in that place everyone seems to think is haunted.” Larisa nodded.

“I know the place. Many thanks.”


	38. Chapter 38

It wasn’t long before the oven in Felara’s place was roaring with fire. Davy crawled out, once again covered in soot. He frowned, but tried to hide his disappointment over getting filthy yet again.

“All right, I think I’ve got it going for a while,” he said. “I think I’ll head off toward home so I can….”

The moment he poked his head outside, he started to re-think that. Rain was coming down at a steady pace, and it wasn’t long before he realized that he no longer cared much for it. He pulled back inside.

“On second thought, is there something else you’d like me to do while I’m here?”

“Oh no, you’ve done enough, but you’re welcome to stay until the rain lets up. Would you like something to eat?”

“Some food would be lovely, thank you,” Davy smiled at her. “And….do you by any chance have any tea in this world?”

Davy looked down at his body and frowned at the sight. He was starting to wonder if he would ever feel clean again.

“I suppose I should make myself more presentable first.” Felara laughed.

“Well of course we have tea! And I’ve got just the stuff for you. A special blend straight from Emberglow Hearth.” She puttered around as she located the tea. “Oh, and you’re welcome to use my bath to get yourself cleaned up. It’s just down that way… although it might be a bit dark in there.”

“Ah, that sounds lovely,” Davy said. Both to the tea and the prospect of a bath. “And I think I can find my way around. I’ll be back out in a bit.”

Davy strode to where he was directed. It was indeed dark, but after careful focus for a couple of minutes, he was able to light up a finger with a tiny, controlled flame while he gathered the things he would need to clean up.

A few minutes later, Davy rejoined Felara. His body was clean and his wings shone. His eyes also twinkled as he smiled at her.

“Thank you for letting me use your bath,” he said. “I feel much better now. Is there anything else you’d like me to do before we get started?”

“No, you’ve done enough, thank you.” She set out a plate and a pot of tea.

Davy took a long drink from the tea cup. The tea was rich and earthy. It wasn’t like the teas he was familiar with at home. It tasted like…like this place. Beautiful and wild and with a hint of magic.

“Thank you,” he said again. “I really needed this.”

“I’m glad you like it dear.” Felara smiled. She bustled about a bit more. “How do you four know each other?” she asked.

“It’s sort of a long story,” Davy replied, looking into his teacup. “We’re from all sorts of places. Me from England. Micky from California. Mike from Texas and Peter from Connecticut. I know you don’t know where those places are, but in our world they’re pretty far apart. And yet we all ended up meeting each other and becoming friends. Then we became a band. A music group.”

Davy took another long sip from his cup. It felt weird to be talking about their lives like this. Almost like he was telling Felara a fairy tale.

Felara nodded thoughtfully.

“And so you all stay together?”

“Sure,” Davy nodded. “It’s like…well, it’s like this clan, I imagine. We stick together because we’re family. We get along all right and we enjoy working together. Not everything is perfect, mind you. But I don’t think it ever really is with people. At least, that’s what my grandfather used to tell me.”

Davy’s expression grew more somber with thoughts of his grandfather. He had already lost a son and now he might think he had lost a grandson. Davy wished there was some way to let his grandfather know that he was alive and well even though he knew it was probably impossible.

* * *

Micky was asleep as soon as he landed on what he had thought was a tree. His dreams were troubled again, but they were also vague and disjointed. Even in his dream-state, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember any of this.

In fact, he hoped he wouldn’t.

* * *

Peter was worried about Mike. He seemed to have forgotten that they were no longer on Earth, so he was relieved when a knock sounded on the door. Micky would be able to help Mike.

Mike opened it to see a large dragon, like Blutigenacht, but different colors, looking down.

“Good, this is right place. Sorry to bother you, but your Spiral friend… he mistook me for tree. I am not tree.” She shrugged apologetically. She had a thick accent that sounded almost Russian to Mike’s ears. “I do not mean to offend, so I return him to his Nap Buddy.” She reached up and gently disengaged Micky from around her neck. Micky tangled around her forelimb, but as she passed him to Mike he relaxed and slid off of her arm onto Mike’s body, nestling himself cozily in Mike’s feathers which were still somewhat puffed up.

Mike didn’t really register a word she said. Blood roared in his ears as he was filled with a visceral fury at seeing Micky _wrapped around another dragon_ . Only the fact that the dragon was behaving in a deferential fashion and had in fact _returned_ Micky to his rightful place around Mike’s shoulders kept Mike from attacking right then and there.

“Thank you.” he said, barely managing to keep his rage out of his voice. The dragon nodded and left. Mike shut the door and curled his wings around Micky’s sleeping body. Micky _belonged_ on his shoulders.

“ _Mine._ ” he growled under his breath. “ _MINE!_ ”

* * *

For a brief moment, Micky almost woke up.

He had felt himself sliding off of the tree he had coiled around and was sliding around to get back into a secure position. He only stopped when he felt himself slip onto something much warmer and fluffier. Micky let out a sigh of contentment and nuzzled into the fluff as he fell back into a deeper slumber.

At first, something dark brushed up against the edges of his subconscious. But that soon melted away as the security he felt seeped into him. It was as if a strong, comforting presence was there with him. It eased away the stressful dreams and replaced them with much more pleasant ones.

Micky smiled and wrapped himself a little tighter around the limbs he was on.

* * *

Peter’s tail twitched nervously. This wasn’t like Mike. Sure, Mike could be a bit overprotective of them at times, but this didn’t feel right. Mike crouched, wings wrapped protectively around Micky, tail lashing, growling softly.

“ _Mine._ ”

He kept repeating that in a low growl as he stroked Micky’s coils. Peter smelled the rage on him. He didn’t understand why Mike was so mad. The dragon had said that Micky had mistaken them for a tree, and Peter could easily see how that could happen. Was it the accent?

“M-Mike?” he asked tentatively.

Mike spun around and snarled.

“ _He is MINE!!_ ” he spat. Peter backed away, head low, body close to the ground, doing his best to indicate harmlessness, utterly terrified. Mike was supposed to protect them! He was supposed to be the one they went to when they were scared! Not the one doing the scaring! His eyes filled with tears.

How could he bring Mike back?


	39. Chapter 39

Mike _heard_ Peter’s voice, and recognized it, but was unable to make the connection between that and the creature staring at him fearfully. Peter didn’t look like that. Something in his head was trying to get his attention but he brushed it aside. The creature continued to back away as he stared. Satisfied that it was no longer a threat, Mike turned away partially. He still didn’t trust it, but it wasn’t making any threatening moves.

Moments later, a sound filled the air. Mike’s reflexive lunge was cut off mid-leap as he saw the creature playing Peter’s bass.

Wait.

 _Peter_ is playing his bass. That creature _is_ Peter. He is a dragon. They are _all_ dragons.

How had he forgotten?

Why was he so angry?

What was _wrong_ with him?

All of his old anxieties, fears, and insecurities decided to rise up then, filling his mind with chaos. He couldn’t face Peter right now. He didn’t know how to explain what had come over him. He didn’t understand it himself. Wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. Instead, he spun and leapt to the second floor landing. He needed to be alone. Needed to sort out the conflicting emotions he felt.

Needed to regain his control.

* * *

Meanwhile, Micky was working his way out of a nightmare.

He dreamed he was back at the pad, goofing around with his chemistry set when it suddenly got much darker. He dropped what he was doing and ran out to the front room. There, he found Mike, backing away from a large, green, snarling animal. Teeth bared, eyes ablaze, the creature was definitely angry.

Micky was about to call out to it when the monster suddenly leaped into the air and landed close to Mike. Even more horrifying was the moment when the Texan looked over at him and Micky realized that Mike had the same eyes as the creature who was menacing him.

On the edges of sleep, Micky shuddered and mumbled out Mike’s name.

Mike buried himself under the pile of furs in his room, replaying over the events of the last few minutes in his head.

Peter… He’d seen terror in Peter’s eyes when he’d turned around. He’d been pleased about it! That was wrong! He was supposed to be the one they came to when they were scared, not the one scaring them!

He was supposed to be setting an example for them. They looked up to him. He was their leader. He was supposed to protect them! ALL of them! But they seemed to be doing just fine. He was the only one not adjusting well.

Did they even need him here? Or was he just a liability?

Peter’s terrified gaze rose to the front of his mind again.

Mike’s eyes filled with tears. He felt Micky shift and mumble something. Automatically he reached up to stroke his coils before just wrapping his arms around them both.

 ~~Peter needed a joint.~~ Peter set down his bass. He hoped Mike was alright. Mike seemed to have calmed down… Peter was still worried though. He had been honestly terrified when Mike had snarled at him, but that was over now. Mike wasn’t scary anymore. He was just under a lot of stress, and had been thrown off. But he was better now.

And Peter knew that Mike would be fretting about how Peter was feeling after that. And that he felt terrible about it. He needed to show Mike that he still trusted him. Because he did trust him. He hadn’t actually attacked him, and Peter was sure that Mike wouldn’t do that.

He flew up to the second floor landing and cautiously pushed open the door.

“Mike?”

* * *

Micky blinked slowly. He was still really drowsy, but he was finally starting to wake up. He felt someone stroking him. Which seemed wrong given how he was coiled around a tree. A tree that was warm and fluffy. And was breathing.

Micky’s eyes shot open. It only took him seconds to realize that he was wrapped around Mike again. How did he get here? The last memory he had was of being in the forest. Did Mike take him off the tree and bring him back to the pad?

Suddenly, he heard Peter’s voice. It sounded hesitant and concerned. Why did Peter seem so worried about something? Peter hardly ever worried about things.

Worst of all, he could feel Mike’s breath hitch. Was…was he crying?

* * *

Mike heard Peter call his name but didn’t respond, being too wrapped up in his head to bother.

Peter peeked around the door to see a mound of furs that was about Mike’s size in the middle of the floor. He was wary of approaching… but quickly decided that the only way to convince Mike that he still trusted him was to go right up there and poke his head under the furs, so that’s what he did.

“Peter?” Mike asked in confusion as the bassist snuggled under the furs with him. “What are you doing?” Peter nudged him gently.

“Trusting you.”

Micky blinked in surprise. Of course Peter trusted Mike. They all did. Mike was their leader. Their protector. Why would there be any doubt about that?

Micky slithered down so he could face Mike better while making sure to gently squeeze him.

“Hey, hey Mike, what’s wrong?” he murmured. “What is it?”

The drummer then closed his eyes and snuggled against Mike some more.

 _Mine,_ Mike thought, looking down at the other two. He forced that thought away quickly. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about. That feeling of… possessiveness that kept cropping up when he looked at them. _Particularly_ when he looked at Micky.

“Micky…“ his voice caught. “You… you can always sleep on me.” he mumbled.

Micky looked back up at Mike, surprised. He didn’t think Mike wanted to be used as a bed. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. He wasn’t sure if Mike’s decision was due to simply re-thinking it or because there was something deeply troubling the Texan.

Either way, Micky figured that it’d probably be best for both of them to go along with this Napping Buddy thing for now. And he’d have to ask Peter about what happened while he was asleep.

“Sure, babe,” he said gently. “I…I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Then Micky gingerly squeezed Mike again, hoping that the touch would be a reassuring one.

Mike nodded and hugged Micky close. He needed that assurance. Any reservations he’d had regarding Micky sleeping on him had vanished upon seeing him around another dragon’s neck.

He forced back those thoughts, taking a few deep breaths. Peter still trusted him. That was good. He cast off the furs, patted Peter, and went downstairs.

Micky continued to stay where he was as Mike moved around the pad. A part of him really wanted to ask Mike what had led to this change of heart, but he was somewhat nervous about it. Mike was obviously struggling and talking about something related to it before he was ready might make things worse.

Instead, he decided that a distraction was needed.

“Hey, Mike, I met another dragon like me today. A Spiral who knows Arcane magic. She’s really groovy and she said she’d help me out and stuff. Oh and look at what I figured out how to do.”

Micky turned his focus to some of Davy’s crystal figurines and they floated up in the air and swayed to and fro in a circle.

Mike started.

“Uh… I don’t think Davy’s gonna be too happy if you drop those.” he said cautiously. Still, he moved forward to get a closer look. The figures hung in the air, suspended by nothing that Mike could see. No wires of any sort, nothing but a very faint pinkish aura that could have just as easily have been his imagination.

“You’re actually doing this…” he murmured in awe, gingerly reaching out to touch one of the figures bobbing in midair. It wobbled slightly, then stabilized.

Outside the rain continued to pound on the leaves and branches of the Clan, growing louder as the shower grew into a full fledged storm. The wind stirred the chimes Peter had crafted, adding gentle resonant tones to the ambient rain sounds.

“Yep, it’s all me,” Micky grinned. “Cool, huh?”

Micky shifted his focus again. The figurines moved from a circle to whirling around into a funnel. He finished it off by sitting them down carefully on the floor in a pile.

“And that’s just one thing,” he added. “Nisha was able to do all kinds of stuff. Make stuff appear and disappear and change color and…and all sorts of things.”

Micky found himself growing excited over the possibilities. And he wondered again what Mike’s magic would be like.

“That’s amazing, Mick.” Mike said. He glanced up as thunder rumbled. “Looks like we’re in for quite a bit of rain. Hope Davy’s alright.” He shivered at the thought of being caught out in the rain when it was pouring down like this. His feathers puffed up again. At least it was dry in here.

He blinked. It _was_ dry in here. Drier than it was back home, on Earth, during a storm like this. It was pretty cozy actually. Pogue had done his job well. Peter was lounging by the windows watching the rain fall and Mike soon joined him.

He liked the rain, even if he wasn’t too eager to go out in it. It was peaceful. Soothing.

Mike sat quietly next to Peter, one hand absentmindedly stroking the bassists fur. Peter snuggled up to him, and the rain continued to fall. The air was filled with the scent of life as the rain cleansed the air of dust, and his mind of worry.

Micky grinned at the sight of Mike and Peter lounging together and decided to leave them alone. Instead, he went back to his box of parts and tools for some more tinkering.

Soon, he was lost in a world of gears and cogs and endless possibilities.


	40. Chapter 40

Back at the bar, Felara looked out at the curtain of rain sheeting down and shook her head.

“It’s gonna be raining for a while yet.” she said, drawing back a curtain to keep the wind from blowing in. A low roll of thunder only served to emphasize her statement, and she chuckled.

“Seems like the Stormcatcher agrees. Still, you’ll be fine here. Unless they were expecting you back soon?”

Davy shuddered. He wasn’t afraid of the storm. But it seemed deeply unpleasant to him. Thinking about droplets of water streaming down his neck and his wings while more rain whipped in his face made him shudder again.

“I didn’t really say when I’d be home,” he said. “So I think I’ll stay here for now. If that is all right.”

“Certainly, though if you do wish to leave I’m sure there’s someone who’d give you a lift under their wing. I know Ember hates being out in the rain too.”

“That’s all right,” Davy shrugged. “I’m good here. It’s nice….it’s….”

Davy paused. The truth was that he didn’t want to go back to the pad. Not yet. Home was stressful right now and he needed a break.

“Um Felara, I know this will sound odd, but…how do you go about being a dragon?”

Felara tilted her head.

“That depends. How do you go about being a human where you’re from? More tea?”

Davy blinked in surprise. He stayed silent for almost a minute before finally letting out a rueful chuckle.

“I suppose that’s a fair question,” he said. “And please, I would like some more tea.”

He held his cup up while Felara poured. Then he took a couple more sips before answering.

“Well…everyone goes about it a different way,” he said. “Depends on where you’re from and what your background is. But….I guess most of us just tries to get through the day by day. And that’s what you’re going to tell me, isn’t it?”

Felara nodded with a smile.

“Precisely. We exist, and so try to make our existence meaningful. Be it through serving the Clan in some fashion, honoring the deities, or just doing what makes you happy. So just be yourself.” Her eyes crinkled up. “Shadowbinder knows this place could use some shaking up.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Davy nodded. “It’s just… Back on Earth, I didn’t have to think so much about it. It wasn’t hard to figure out how to be a good bloke. You know, to be one of the guys and know how to treat the birds. I’d learned that stuff. But here….”

Davy sighed. He finished the tea in his cup before continuing.

“Here, it’s like I have to start all over. I don’t know what’s normal or looked down on. I suppose I don’t know how I feel about having to learn all that again.”

“Ah I see what you’re saying. Well… I don’t think anyone’s gonna be too offended by your missteps. We come from all different places ourselves, so it’s all good.” She poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it thoughtfully. “You seem like a good lad. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to fit in here. We’re pretty relaxed.” She paused. “Just make sure to keep Peter away from Chloreth.” Much as she would have liked to watch the mayhem that would create, she liked Chloreth.

“That’s good,” Davy nodded. “You’ve all been kind. I know we haven’t said it much….but thank you for that. I’m not so sure if the people on my world would always be so welcoming.”

Davy started to relax, the tensions he had felt about being a dragon started to ease. He still had questions and wondered if he could get back home, but it didn’t scare him so much anymore.

“Wait…why should Peter stay away from this Chloreth?”

“Chloreth… Chloreth doesn’t like Tundras. They have an annoying tendency of mistaking her for food. She’s a very strong Nature mage, you see, so between that, her colors, and the fact that Tundras don’t have very good eyesight and so depend on scent for identification…” She laughed. “Even non-Tundras sometimes mistake her for foliage.” Her eyes began to glow with a deep purple light. An image appears over the counter of a small green dragon.

“What her? She seems like a nice lil’ bird,” Davy said. “And Peter, he’s harmless. Sure, he might be a bit annoying once in a while, but he’s all right. He’s a sweet guy, he is. I’m sure he wouldn’t try to eat her or anything like that.”

Felara waved her hand and the illusion animated to show Chloreth being buried under a pile of Tundras. She wriggles free and flies off… however when she lands and looks around the Tundras are right there. Sure, they have thorns and twigs tangled in their fur from the brambles she threw in their way, but that only slowed them down a little bit.

“Also, you might want to tread carefully around her as well. Setting plants on fire is a sure way to get on her bad side.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on burning trees and plants,” Davy frowned. “Just occasionally annoying housemates.”

“Maybe not, but accidents happen.”

Davy looked outside. The rain looked like it might let up soon. He felt a lot better about going home after it was over. Although, he thought he might want to an errand first. Something he should have done before now.

“Felara, do you know where Mnissath lives?”

Felara dismissed the Chloreth illusion and summoned another one, this time of a den set underneath an ancient willow tree. The tree was hung with all manner of shells and beads.

“You looking for a second date?” she asked.

“No!” Davy huffed with a frown. “He’s a bloke and I’m….” Davy let out a long sigh. He probably wouldn’t be allowed to forget about this any time soon

“I know this might not be a thing around here, but where I come from guys go out with girls. Most of the time. I don’t have a problem with it if other people want to do something else…but I’m only interesting in birds. All right? I just wanted to stop by to thank him for the gift and to, well…see if things are…all right. If you know what I mean.”

“I see. Well good luck!”

“Thanks,” Davy said as he got up to leave. “For the tea…and everything else. I’ll never really be able to repay you. But I hope we can continue to be friends.”

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t.” Felara responded with a wave of one wing.

Davy waved back and walked along. It was still weird, being in this place. Being a dragon. But he was pretty sure he was starting to figure it all out. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to remain here forever, but for now.

For now, he was ready to make the most out of being a dragon.


	41. Chapter 41

Micky cocked his head to the side as he tried to figure out why the latest pieces he shoved together bulged in such a funny way. He had thought for sure that he had worked out how they went together, but it seemed like after hours of progress he was only making mistakes now.

“Bah,” he said, tossing the contraption back into the box. He had occupied a lot of time tinkering, but now he was bored again. He thought about going to find Nisha, but wasn’t sure about leaving Mike alone again right now.

Instead, he went over to his drum set. If only he could figure out how to play again….

Mike looked down at his friend flopped on the floor, stirring up dust with his fluffy tail.

“Peter… what do you think of all this? All that’s happened to us?” he asked, his hand buried in Peter’s sandy speckled fur. He was incredibly soft.

Peter perked up his ears at Mike’s question. He wasn’t entirely sure what Mike was asking. So he figured that he should just tell him everything that occurred to him.

“Well…I’m really fluffy now. And I like that,” he said. “And I like being able to fly. That’s really groovy. And controlling the wind. Well, not controlling it. Working with it, I guess.”

Peter stretches his legs out again and yawned. He loved Mike petting him like this. It was comforting and relaxing.

“This is a pretty place,” he said. “This world. And we all get to be together, so that’s good. I wouldn’t like being all alone here. And we can make music again now that we have our instruments. I wonder what kind of music dragons like.”

Mike chuckled softly. Peter always did have an interesting way of looking at things.

“Hopefully they’ll like what we play. I hate to think what they’d do if they don’t. But it doesn’t bother you at all?” he asked. “Havin’ t’ walk around like that?” Mike wasn’t sure if he would be able to deal with that. He continued to stroke Peter’s fur. Suddenly a low rumbling noise filled the air.

“What the…?” Mike started. “Peter, are you _purring_?” He buried his fingers in Peter’s mane. Yes, his throat was definitely vibrating the way a cat’s does when happy. “Oh, Peter…”

Peter blinked. He hadn’t even realized that he was purring. But now that he was, it felt even better than it had before. He was pretty sure he understood now why cats did this.

“I guess I am,” he chuckled. “You should try it if you can. It’s fun.”

Peter yawned again. He leaned into Mike’s touch while a smile spread across his face.

“Well, I’d have to walk around like this, wouldn’t, I? If I’m going to be a dragon. I don’t think it’d be as much fun if I was a human in this world. It’s like…it’s like I am human here. With the way dragons are here. So i’m sort of human….just different.”

Peter sent another breeze of wind toward his chimes.

“Huh.” Mike said. He hadn’t really thought about it that way, but it did make sense. The dragons he’d interacted with so far… they were all people. Strangely shaped people perhaps, but then again, the way they looked before would undoubtedly seem strange to the dragons of the Clan.

The rain was slacking off now, and it grew brighter as the clouds moved on. Soon it had stopped completely. Mike rose to his feet and stretched.

_Someone’s at the door._

Mike paused, bemused. Where had that thought come from? He- There is a knock at the door. He opened the door, and was surprisingly unsurprised to find about a dozen Tundras standing there. Grinning. And covered in mud. Well maybe not covered, but the fur around their feet was caked with it. Mike plastered a neutral expression onto his face to hide the despair at the mess that he would soon have to clean up.

“Can I help you?” he asked. The one in front, who was a deep green color, darker in shade than he was, stepped forward and sniffed him.

“You smell strange.” it remarked. “What is your name?”

“Uh… Mike. Mike Nesmith.” Mike maintained his carefully neutral expression.

“Mike Nesmith…” the tundras murmured thoughtfully. The first tundra nodded.

“I’m Verdath. Welcome to the Clan.” It bowed its head. It lacked the full mane that Peter possessed, Mike noticed, though the mane it did have was grown out long and was braided with beads. Others had the full mane, and all of them wore the manes they had fairly long.

“Er… thank you.” he said. Verdath smiled, and brushed against his leg as they came in. As did the rest of the tundras.

Mike watched as they promptly piled on top of Peter with cries of “Friend!” “Welcome!” “Fellow Tundra!”. It was actually kind of amusing…

Peter grinned and found himself laughing and cheering with the rest of the tundras. Everyone seemed so friendly here and he loved it. It was like a gentler, happier experience of being on a hippie commune. He was sure that he’d make plenty of friends among these tundras. And that they would probably enjoy hearing their music.

Micky moved over away from his drums, his eyes bulging at the sight in front of them.

“Pete? Mike? What the heck is going on?”

Mike scratched at the base of a horn as he considered Micky’s question.

“Well, it seems like the local Tundra population has decided to pay Peter a visit.” He watches as several Tundras pull brushes from somewhere and begin to brush each other and Peter. Soon the air was filled with the rumble of a dozen Tundras all purring happily, as well as loose fur that had been brushed off.

“Ha ha, great,” Micky smirked as he watched the fur float through the air. “Too bad none of us know how to sew. We could make about a dozen fur rugs out of what’s landing on the floor.

The drummer coughed and waved a hand in front of him. The fur was like a fuzzy mist in the air it was so thick. Thankfully, it was starting to settle down, leaving only piles of fluff. Which Micky was sure was irking the Texan right now.

“Oh, hey, Mike, I figured out how to do something cool with my drums,” he said. “Wanna see?”

“Well y’don’t need to know how t’ sew… Prob’ly be easier t’ spin it into yarn and knit it. Th’ way they’re shedding there’s probably enough to make another Tundra.” He shook his head in disbelief. Peter _would_ be the one to end up in a massive ~~orgy~~ cuddle pile without even trying.

“You wanted to show me somethin’ Mick?”

“Maybe we can just stuff all of that fluff into pillows,” Micky quipped. “Oh? Oh yeah, check this out.”

Micky flew over to his drum kit and hover over the stool he normally sat on. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, his drum sticks floated and began tapping out a beat on his snare. Then the pedal of his bass drum moved on its own and added to the rhythm.

Mike nodded. impressed.

“Hey, that’s pretty groovy. How close do ya need to be t’do that?”

Micky scrunched his eyes. “I don’t know if it’s so much having to be close to it as being able to see it so I can focus on it. When I see it, it’s a lot easier for me to think about what I want to do. It’s kinda hard to do that with someone you can’t see.”

Micky had a drumstick twirl around and then crash on a cymbal. He played around with the drums for a few seconds before sitting the sticks down.

“Hey Mike, you should try to find someone with the same magic as you,” he said. “Then we can all see what we can learn.”

Micky smiled as he said this. It was still weird being here and he was sure that this wouldn’t be the end of their troubles. Still, they were together and it looked like they wouldn’t be alone. So maybe this would simply be one of their biggest adventures yet.

* * *

Peter was feeling drowsy. Lying there, surrounded by his fellow tundras all piled together and purring, his coat feeling much lighter after the thorough brushing they’d given him, the taste of strawberries on his tongue… it was wonderful. He snuggled deeper into the mound of bodies and dozed off, still purring.

Mike still wasn’t entirely convinced he had magic (or that he even wanted to have magic), but he nodded anyway.

“Yea. I’ll do that. Once we have the pad back and I’ve cleaned up.” The Tundras, Peter included, looked to be napping peacefully and he didn’t really have the heart to kick them out. They were like cats almost. Between the purring and the fact that it looked like they could sleep anywhere…

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Micky grinned again. He was pretty sure that Mike was still figuring stuff out. That was normal for the Texan.

Normal. That seemed like a strange word to use in this world. But it was starting to feel right about saying it here. There were a lot of things they all needed to figure out about being dragons. About why they were here. About if they would ever get home.

For now though, Micky would take “normal”. As long as it meant he could stay with his friends.


End file.
